


All it takes is a Smile

by Hannibal_X_Will



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Angst, Canon Characters make cameo appearances - Freeform, Daryl is homeless, Daryl is smitten, Fluff, Hurt Daryl, Love at First Sight, M/M, No Apocalypse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Protective Rick, Rick is still a cop, Rick to the Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:46:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 23
Words: 54,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3521156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibal_X_Will/pseuds/Hannibal_X_Will
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Homeless AU</p><p>Daryl is living on the streets and Rick is the Deputy Sheriff who makes his life a little more bearable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy :) Sorry for any mistakes.

It started with a smile, such a simple thing, but for Daryl it meant everything. He couldn't remember the last time someone had smiled at him, most just ignored him. But he had, the Deputy Sheriff with sky blue eyes and dark hair that curled softly at his nape beneath his hat. 

Daryl had never been a lover of cops, what had they ever done for him? Normally the appearance of a cop would lead to him being moved on, with them telling him he couldn't sleep there or whatever. Where had they been the times he had needed them? The times when some drunken assholes had laid into him, thought it funny to beat up someone who had nothing to give them, who had done nothing to them neither. No, cops had never been any friend to him. 

But this one seemed different. He hadn't hastily averted his eyes the moment he had seen Daryl like every other passerby did – sometimes people even crossed to the other side of the street to avoid walking passed him. Instead, the Deputy Sheriff had held Daryl’s gaze and smiled at him, a God-honest smile with no wicked mockery or malice behind it. Daryl had been so stunned, so swept away with the beauty of that smile, that he had just stared back. 

The Deputy hadn't spoken to him, but as he drew level to where Daryl had been sitting at the mouth of the alleyway his strides had slowed. Daryl had half expected – hoped even – that he would stop and talk to him, but he didn’t. He had just smiled, yet that had made all the difference to Daryl’s day.

That night when he curled up in the doorway of a shop, wrapping his dirty, ripped jacket tightly around his skinny frame, he had thought of the Deputy’s smile, how the sunlight dancing off his hypnotic eyes and the way the breeze had played with the curls at the nape of his neck. The memory kept him warm that night.

The next day Daryl was walking down the street when he spotted the Deputy leaning casually against the side of his parked police cruiser, clearly waiting for someone. His heart jumped into his throat and he frozen mid-step. A man walking behind him narrowly avoided crashing into him but Daryl hardly noticed as the guy swore angrily at him. The Deputy on the other hand heard the man and shot him a stern look. Clearly not wanting to start something, the guy ducked his head and hurried away. Daryl couldn't breathe, his eyes were locked with the Deputy’s whose face smoothed over and smiled kindly at him.

“Alright there?” 

Hearing the Deputy’s voice was like slipping into a hot bath and a shiver ran down Daryl’s spine.

“Y-yeah,” he muttered back, his own voice sounding horrible to his ears, gruff and hoarse with lack of use. 

“Good,” the Deputy said, still smiling and Daryl felt his cheeks growing hot. 

He had never really cared what other people thought when they saw him, he didn't care what he looked like with his dirty clothes, jeans too big around the waist with holes in the knees, a stained jumper over a threadbare t-shirt, and his worn leather biker jacket – the only thing he possessed that used to be worth any money - with it's broken zipper and rip across the left shoulder. But he cared then, he hated that he looked and smelt so awful, he didn't want the Deputy to judge him like everyone else did.

Yet, the smile on his handsome face and brightness in his eyes seemed to tell Daryl that he wasn't judging him, that he hadn't figured he knew everything about him just by his appearance and situation.

He should say something. Daryl tried to think of what, but his mind had gone completely blank and his courage was failing him.

The bell over the coffee shop door rang as a second cop came marching out holding two cups. He didn't notice Daryl standing there and blocked his view of the blue-eyed Deputy as he handed him his cup. 

“Ready to go?” The Deputy’s partner asked, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Yeah, Shane.” 

Daryl watched the two cops get into the cruiser and felt his heart sink with disappointment down into his stomach. But as the car pulled away from the curb the Deputy caught his eye through the passenger window and nodded at him. Daryl felt the corner of his mouth twist and he coughed to hide the smile that tried to spread across his face. For the first time in a long while he faced the day thinking things could only get better.

By the time evening came Daryl found his positivity waning. He was rummaging in a rubbish bin round the back of a fast food restaurant when it began to rain. Cursing under his breath, he hitched up the collar of his jacket and hunched his shoulders against the heavy droplets. His hand closed around a still-warm, half-eaten burger wrapped in paper and pulled it out with a flourish. He hugged it protectively to his chest. It made him furious what people threw away, yet at the same time he was overwhelmingly grateful.

Holding on to the burger tightly, he jogged down the alleyway towards the nearest doorway he knew he could huddle in to get out of the worst of the rain. When he got there, he crouched down and unwrapped the burger. The smell had his mouth water and his empty stomach growl. The first bite made his mouth fill with saliva and he revelled in the fact the meat was still slightly warm. Oh how he missed a hot meal. Common sense told him to save half of the burger for later but his taste buds and stomach had other ideas. 

The rain was easing slightly as he sucked his fingers clean and he became away someone was watching him. He stiffened, sensing the eyes upon him before he saw the three men standing on the corner of the street watching him. The street lamp overhead only partial illuminated them, their faces hidden in shadow by the hoods they wore low, but Daryl instantly knew their type. 

Swallowing, the taste of the burger suddenly turning sour in his mouth, Daryl pushed himself up and began to walk briskly in the opposite direct of the three men. He didn't need to look over his shoulder to know they were following him. 

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath. He turned right at the corner and broke into a ran. Seconds later he heard three sets of feet pounding after him. Splashing water as he went, Daryl ran as fast as he could, not knowing where he was going. The rain stung his face and he could taste the panic like blood at the back of his throat. His heart was hammering against his ribs and his pulse was so loud in his ears he couldn't tell the difference between it and his footsteps. 

The dark mouth of an alleyway appeared to his left and he dived down it. There was a pale streak of fur as a cat darted out of his way behind some bins and for a moment Daryl considered following its lead and hiding but quickly dismissed the idea. Looking over his shoulder, his blood ran cold as they saw the three men were still on his tail and closing fast. 

Crash. Daryl went down hard, running straight into a tipped over bin in his path. The concrete rushed up to meet and pain flashed through his head like a bolt of lightning. Now he was sure he could taste blood and he spat it out as he groaned and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. The world tilted and he almost gave up and collapsed onto his side but the jeers of the three men almost on top of him filled his veins with adrenaline. 

Scrambling to his feet, he half ran half staggered to the mouth of the alleyway, praying there would be other people around. The pain in his heart was immense and his vision blurred, forcing him to stop and lean against the wall, fearing he was about to blackout. 

The men were just feet away and Daryl pulled himself around the corner and straight into a uniformed chest. He stumbled and would have fallen but strong hands caught him by arms and held him upright. The smell of male cologne wafted over him and concerned blue eyes wavered into focus. Daryl let out his breath in relief and sagged against the Deputy’s hands, wanting nothing more than to bury into his warmth and have his arms wrap around him. 

The men appeared out of the alleyway onto the street behind him and the Deputy’s hands on Daryl’s arms tightened. They froze at the sight of the police officer and Daryl closed his eyes, concentrating on trying not to throw up as his head throbbed.

“Nice night, officer,” one of the men sneered and Daryl felt revulsion slither down his spine. The Deputy gently but firmly tugged Daryl to the side and stepped in front of him, towards the men.

“I think you'll find it isn't,” he replied icily, “and it's about to get much worse if you aren't gone from my sights in ten seconds.” 

The men threw Daryl one last look before turning their backs on him and the Deputy and sauntering away, laughter loud and hands shoved deep into their pockets.

The Deputy turned back to Daryl and asked him anxiously, “Are you ok? Did they hurt you?”

Daryl felt so disorientated that he didn't hear the Deputy’s questions. There was a noise in his ears like waves crashing against rocks and his stomach was rolling, threatening to reject the burger he had savoured so much eating.

“Hey,” the Deputy stepped close to Daryl, his hand coming up a touching him. Daryl jumped as if he'd been electrocuted and the Deputy held up his hands in apology.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, pointing to Daryl’s forehead, “You should really get that check.”

That registered in Daryl's mind and he snorted, “me and the health service ain't exactly on good terms.” 

The Deputy winced, “No, of course not, that was a stupid thing to say. I'm sorry.” 

Daryl was stunned, the guy sounded as nervous as he felt. He noticed for the first time the rain had stopped and it had made the Deputy’s dark hair curl even more. The urge to run his fingers through those curls was almost too strong for Daryl to resist.

“Come with me,” the Deputy said, gesturing with his arm.

“Where to?” Daryl asked quickly. He may find the guy drop-dead gorgeous but he wasn't able to follow him blindly. Trust was something he found near impossible to give nowadays.

“To my car, it's just around the corner. There's an emergency first aid kit in it, I can look at your head if you want?”

Daryl hesitated. All his street-wise instincts were shouting at him to tell the cop to take a hike but…his head did really hurt and the guy had just saved him from a beating or worse.

“Alright,” he growled. The Deputy smiled and Daryl’s heart missed a beat. He had never felt this before, he had always thought such things were just in films and books, but then again no one had ever smiled at him like that…

It felt wrong sliding into the front passenger seat of the police cruiser, he should be in the back behind the wire guard, not making the comfortable seat all wet and dirty. The Deputy fished out the first aid kit and crouched down in between the open door and where Daryl sat. He reached passed Daryl to turn on the overhead light and Daryl flinched at the brightness.

“Sorry,” the Deputy said, patting Daryl's knee. He opened the kit and balanced it on his thigh then asked, “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Daryl shook his head, though instantly regretted it for it caused fresh pain to stab through his skull.

Tearing open a disinfectant wipe, Rick cautious reached towards Daryl but paused before actually touching him. “May I?” 

“Y-yes,” Daryl stammered, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. He closed his eyes so he didn't have to see the amused smile that played across the Deputy’s tempting lips.

The first soft brush of fingers in his scalp made him jump but he bit his lip and forced himself to stay still. The Deputy gently pushed Daryl’s long wet hair out of the way to examine the small cut just below his hairline on the right side of his forehead.

“My names Rick,” the Deputy told him as he carefully dabbed at the cut with the wipe. Daryl hissed at the stinging pain and focused instead on what the man was saying. “What's your name?”

“Daryl,” he muttered, opening his eyes to see Rick put a sealed plaster between his teeth to hold. Something deep inside of him tightened and he quickly averted his eyes. Rick noticed and smirked around the corner of the small packet. He lowered the wipe, now red with Daryl’s blood, and ripped open the top of the packet and pulled out the plaster. 

He leaned in close as he gently placed it over the cut on Daryl's forehead. A tiny line of concentration creased the area between the eyebrows and Daryl wondered how many people knew that about him, how many noticed. Firmly sticking down the edges of the plaster, Rick pulled back to examine his handiwork. 

“A doctor would probably recommend a couple of stitches but that's the best I can do out here.”

“Thanks,” Daryl said slowly, missing the physical contact and not wanting to move from the comfortable warmth of the car and Rick’s presence.

“You got somewhere safe to stay?” 

“Yes,” Daryl lied, not really knowing why, he guessed just force of habit.

“Alright then,” Rick said, though he didn't smile this time, clearly sensing that Daryl had lied to him, “I’d bette get back on patrol.”

Trying and failing to hide his reluctance to leave, Daryl barely stifled a sigh as he heaved himself up and out of the car. His head swam slightly but nowhere near as bad as before. He still swayed on his feet as he rose and Rick caught hold of his elbow. 

“Slowly now,” he warned him gently, standing so close to Daryl that he felt the warmth of his breath ghost across his cheek.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, “thanks.” He hadn't meant to sound defensive but he couldn't help the bitter disappointment that they had to part ways so soon.

“Take care of yourself, Daryl,” Rick said to him seriously.

Daryl met his blue eyes and nodded stiffly. Rick’s hand on his elbow squeezed once then let go and the Deputy walked around his car and got in the driver’s side. Daryl slammed the passenger door for him and was about to walk away as the engine started but Rick unwound the passenger window and called out to him. “Daryl?”

Turning back, Daryl bent over and peered through the window to see Rick leaning over towards him looking like a model from a swimsuit magazine with his cheekbones, jawline, and damp curling hair.

“I'll see you around.”

“Yeah?” Daryl hadn't meant it to come out as a question but Rick nodded and flashed him the smile Daryl was quickly becoming addicted to seeing.

“Me and my partner always go to the same coffee shop every morning,” Rick told him, “you look like a cup would do you good.”

“I don't accept charity,” Daryl muttered despite the voice in his head telling him to accept.

“I didn't mean it as charity. I hope to see you tomorrow, Daryl.” 

The police cruiser pulled away before Daryl could say another word and he was left watching the car drive down the road until it turned left and disappeared from view. 

“Tomorrow,” he whispered, a smile – the first real one in years – spreading across his face, “I’ll hold you to that, Officer-friendly.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I recommend listening to the song 'Crazy Fool' by Jack Savoretti whilst reading :)   
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZLzzvs3fJY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I was overwhelmed by the amount of love (thank you so much!) for this story so I decided to write another chapter. I decided to write this one more from Rick's point of view :) Enjoy! (Sorry for any mistakes)

Rick was nervous. He had never thought of himself as a nervous person before, it took a lot to frighten him – apart from spiders but that didn't count. But he was nervous now. His palms were sweaty and his stomach was alive with a thousand butterflies. He couldn't focus, there was a hundred different questions chasing one another around his mind and it was beginning to make his head hurt. 

What was he doing? Was it wrong? Should he have left Daryl last night alone and hurt? Should he have taken him to hospital? Was he alright now? Had those men come back during the night? Would Daryl be there? What should he say if he was? What would Shane think? Was he being a complete idiot?

He groaned and closed his eyes.

“What's up with you today, man?” Shane asked from the driver’s seat, glancing sideways at Rick, “are you sick? You look kind of flushed.”

“No, I'm good,” Rick said quickly, forcing a smile at his partner and best friend. He couldn't remember a time when Shane hadn't been there by his side, watching his back. Even after he had divorced Lori and Shane had come to him and asked if it would be cool if he asked her out there had never been any bad blood between them. Sure it was weird when he saw Shane and his ex-wife together but, honestly, he was happy for them both. The only thing he was jealous of was that Shane lived with his kids, that it was him who sat opposite Carl at the dinner table, him who checked in on Judith to make sure she was ok being turning in for the night. Rick didn't blame Shane for those things though - he was a good man and a good role model. He trusted him to watch over his kids when they weren't with him - he just wished he was more involved in their everyday lives. 

“You sure? Wouldn’t want you to pass out on the job or anything.”

“Yeah, Shane,” Rick said, straightening in his seat and pushing the thoughts of Daryl to one side, “I’m fine, honest.”

Satisfied, Shane nodded and let the matter drop, much to Rick’s relief. 

It was a pleasant day through the windscreen of the police cruiser, clear blue sky and only a hint of wind. The road was still dark from the rain last night and Rick felt the invisible band around his heart tighten at the memory of Daryl all bedraggled and lost. 

Yesterday when he had driven away he had watched Daryl’s lonely figure shrink in the rear-view mirror, feeling like he had just abandoned a puppy to die, only worse. He had almost turned the car around and driven back but he had held his nerve, what would he have said? He didn’t know himself, all he knew was that he wanted to help the poor man, he obviously had no one to turn to, wasn’t it Rick’s responsibility to offer him a little kindness? Not just because he was a cop, but because he was a decent human being. 

Yet it was more than that and he knew it. What he had felt when he first saw Daryl sitting on the street corner...it was like coming home and starting an adventure all at the same time. He had been overcome with a determination to protect him, to show him the world wasn’t just filled with heartless people and bad circumstances. He also couldn’t deny that, beneath the long dirty hair and worn smelly clothes, he could see Daryl was handsome – not like a Hollywood film star but in a rugged bad boy kind of way. Rick had only recently been exploring his sexuality since his and Lori’s divorce but he was beginning to realise that Daryl, or rather the man he could be if he was given a break, was preciously his type. 

Shane pulled the car round the corner and onto the street where their coffee shop leapt out at Rick and he stiffened. Parking the car a few feet from the shop, Shane turned off the engine and before he could get out Rick blurted, “You stay in here, I’ll get the drinks today.” 

“I ain’t gonna say no to that,” Shane smirked, relaxing back in his seat and switching on the radio whilst he waited.

His heart pounding in his ears, Rick got out of the car and looked around but there was no sign of Daryl. Disappointment hit him like a speeding train and he slammed the car door a little harder than was necessary before stalking up the street to the coffee shop. 

The bell ran above his head as he entered and the rich smell of tea, vanilla, chocolate, coffee, and milk washed over him. There was a short queue as there always was this time in the morning and Rick fell into line and tried not to glower at anyone who looked his way. He folded his arms across his chest and saw out of the corner of his eye a young boy sitting at a table with his mother. The boy couldn’t have been much older than five and he was staring at the gun holstered at Rick’s hip with fascination. Rick felt some of his bad mood disappear and he smiled to the boy’s mother, tipping is hat to her respectfully. 

The bell above the door rang again and he glanced over his shoulder. He blinked, hardly daring to believe his eye as he saw Daryl hovering awkwardly in the doorway, his hand still on the handle. 

“You came,” Rick breathed, unable to help the grin spreading across his face. 

Daryl looked sheepish and moved from one foot to the other awkwardly, “Yeah, I guess I did, it’s not like I have anything else to do.” 

Still smiling, Rick asked, “What would you like?” 

“Um...” Daryl said, craning his neck to see the choices written with chalk on the blackboard hanging behind the counter on the wall.

“Come in, Daryl,” Rick urged him, beckoning with his head, “It’s alright.” He imagined Daryl normally got told to leave if he came into a shop, he clearly had no money to buy anything and Rick couldn’t blame the shopkeepers for being suspicious. 

Hesitating for another second, Daryl slowly inched inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. He stepped into arms reach of Rick who saw the plaster he had put on the cut across his forehead was still in place, though there was now dark yellow bruising all around it. 

“Your head looks sore,” he said gently, his fingers itching to reach out and touch the other man’s stubbly cheek. 

“I’ve had worse,” Daryl muttered, averting his eyes, his shoulders tense and persona uncomfortable. 

Rick frowned, unable to help but feel like he had done something wrong to offend him, “Are you alright, Daryl?” 

The other man didn’t answer. He scowled down at the clean floor, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his old jacket. 

“Excuse me, Officer?” Rick turned around to face the waitress behind the cash register. She was looking between him and Daryl with narrowed brown eyes, her long curl red hair was pulled up in a bun and she wore a rainbow cord bracelet around her left wrist. 

“Is he –“ She began awkwardly. 

“He’s fine,” Rick interrupted sternly, feeling the same defensiveness rise up inside of him as it had yesterday. No one was going to look down at Daryl whilst he was around. “I’ll take two large coffees and...” he trailed off and glanced at Daryl. The man was staring at the sandwiches, bagels, tarts, and cakes behind the glass, his eyes glazed over with longing. “Make that three coffees and I’ll take one of your chicken sandwiches and a large piece of the chocolate cake.” 

Daryl’s head snapped up and he fixed Rick with a stunned look. He opened his mouth to object but Rick got there first, “It’s not charity, it’s for my own peace of mind.” 

The waitress put the sandwich and cake into a brown paper bag whilst the coffee gushed out of the machine into the cups. 

“Why are you doing all this?” Daryl asked in a voice so quiet Rick only just heard him. 

“So that’s what’s bother you,” he mused, pulling out his wallet and handing over a couple of dollar bills to the girl. 

“People don’t help people for nothing,” Daryl growled, looking at the floor again. Rick turned fully to face him and laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m doing this because I want to help you, Daryl. I’m in a position where I can, so why shouldn’t I? I don’t want anything from you in return.” 

A flash of disappointment passed across Daryl’s face and Rick felt his stomach flip. 

“Or – what I mean is – I don’t want anything that you aren’t willing to give.” He only realised what that sounded like when he heard it and he mentally slapped himself. 

Thankfully he was saved further embarrassment by the waitress holding out the paper bag and the three coffees in a cardboard tray. He gratefully took them from and smiled in thanks. 

A deep blush had spread across Daryl’s cheeks at Rick’s words and Rick found himself wondering if the blush continued down his neck and chest beneath his clothes. He quickly scolded himself for such thoughts. 

“Here,” he said quickly, holding out the bag to Daryl and the drinks. With unsteady hands, Daryl took the bag and one of the cups. He looked at the cup as if he couldn’t believe it was real.

“It’s been...years since I had hot coffee like this.” 

The words were so sad and his voice so wounded that Rick was unable to stop himself from stepping closer to him. He reached out and touched Daryl’s wrist. His skin was warm beneath his fingertips and he felt the way his touch made the hairs on Daryl’s arm stand on end. So it wasn’t just him... 

“That’s why I’m doing this, Daryl,” he told him gently, his voice low so only Daryl could hear what he was saying over the noise of the busy cafe, “I think you deserve to know a little kindness, you need it, and I want to give it to you, if you’ll let me?”

Daryl looked up into Rick’s face and the Deputy saw his eyes were wet with tears. Slowly, Rick reached up and touched Daryl’s cheek, willing the tears to fade away, hating to see them in the man’s eyes. Daryl let out a sign as if all the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders and his eyelids drooping shut. Rick cupped the side of Daryl’s face in his hand, the noise and activity all around him falling away so it was only them standing in the cafe. Daryl leant into his hand, exhaling through his nose, the breath tickling the delicate skin of the underside of Rick’s wrist. Tentatively, he rubbed his thumb over the man’s cheek and leaned in...

Someone cleared their throat behind them and the spell was broken. Daryl’s eyes shot open and he jumped back, narrowly avoiding knocking over a table. Panic drained his face of colour and Rick tried to reach out to reassure him but it was too late. The man bolted for the door, wrenching it violently open, knocking the bell wildly. 

“Daryl, wait!” Rick called after him, pushing through the crowd, almost dropping the two remaining drinks. Outside, Rick saw Daryl running down the street, passersby hastily stepping out of the way to avoid being sent flying. Rick was about to follow him but Shane appeared in front of him. 

“There you are, Rick, was just about to call in a search party! How long does it take to get two coffees?” 

But Rick didn’t hear him. He stared after Daryl, so overwhelmed he felt like the ground beneath his feet was opening up. What had he done? Dismay seized his heart and he numbly handed Shane the coffees before the slipped from his shaking hands. He had ruined it, scared Daryl away. He was such an idiot! But before he could slip any further into despair, his and Shane’s radios crackled into life. 

“Duty calls,” Shane said, taking a large gulp of his coffee. Rick nodded still detached from the moment. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from Daryl’s fleeing figure and followed his partner back towards the car to face whatever else the world had planned for him that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment. Thank you for reading.
> 
> I have no idea where this story is going so bare with me, as I said I wasn't intending to write more than the first chapter but you guys asked so here we are ;) If you have any ideas or things you'd like to see please tell me in the comments! X


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for all your lovely comment on the last chapter. Hope you enjoy this one too, it includes a cameo ;)

How could it work? It couldn’t – pure and simple – and Daryl had been a naive fool to even entertain the idea for a second. What did he have to offer Rick? Nothing, just a past laden with skeletons that he knew would someday crawl out of their graves and find him. He couldn’t drag Rick into his bullshit, he wouldn’t do that to him. Why was the man even interested in him? Pity, it was the only explanation Daryl could come to. He may not know a lot about love and relationships but he knew ones built on pity were doomed. Why should he put himself through that inevitable heartbreak? For that was the only possible outcome of whatever the hell it was between them. It couldn’t work. They might as well have come from different planets, for that was how hopeless Daryl knew the situation was. That was why he had run. He had almost given in back there, the feel of Rick’s hand on his face, the warmth of his skin, the smell of his cologne and his own unique scent beneath it...it had all been too much – too close. 

Daryl stopped running and doubled over, his hands grasping his thighs as he panted heavily. His lungs burned and his head was throbbing painfully again. Sucking in deep breaths, he closed his eyes and grappled with his misery. It was for the best, he told himself, to end things now before they truly became anything. Yet, a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered to him that it was already too late, Rick had gotten underneath his skin. 

Opening his eyes, Daryl straightened up and ran a shaking hand through his long greasy hair. He stiffened and looked at his empty hand. Shit, he wheeled around. He had dropped the cup of coffee and hadn’t even noticed. The paper bag containing the food was still in his other hand but he felt the loss of the hot drink like the sting of a wasp. 

He became aware for the first time how far he had run, he didn’t recognise the neighbourhood. There was graffiti on the grey strong walls of the rundown buildings and rubbish scattered across the empty street. Knowing better than to hang around in such an area for too long, Daryl tightened his grip on the paper bag and started walking quickly back the way he had come.

Clouds were beginning to roll in, darkening the earlier bright sky and obscuring the sun. The wind too was picking up, blowing stray sheets of newspapers across the pavement into Daryl’s path. They crunched under his shoes and one was whipped up by the wind and he had to duck to avoid it hitting him in the face. Walking briskly round the corner, Daryl kept his head down and held the paper bag protectively against his chest. A dog behind a chain link fence sprang at him from the side, barking furiously, saliva flying from its powerful jaws. The fence clanged loudly and quivered under his weight. The aggressive barking unnerved Daryl and he jogged across to the other side of the road. 

He didn’t stop walking until he came to the flyover. The cool shadow cast by the huge expanse of raised concrete calmed him slightly and he paused to catch his breath. The flyover was one of his usual haunts, a hotspot for others like him with nowhere to go. Loose stones grinded underneath his feet as he walked over to one of the four burning trashcans where a man wrapped in a sheet of blue plastic stood. The man was familiar to Daryl, he had seen him around here before though had never spoken to him, not that he did with anyone else either. The man eyed him suspiciously as he approached, face so lined Daryl half expected it to crumble away at any moment. There was a hole in his black woollen hat and the strands of wispy hair that hung down his face were as grey as the concrete that surrounded them. The thought of being that old and living on the streets filled Daryl with newfound respect for the guy and sadness at his own prospects. 

“What you got there?” the man croaked, eyeing the paper bag in Daryl’s arms. Halting a foot away from the burning trashcan, Daryl didn’t answer, his own hungry selfishness cancelling out any respect he had for the old man. 

“Don’t worry, son,” the man muttered, holding his wrinkled hands out over the crackling flames, “I ain’t gonna fight you for whatever it is.” 

“You’d lose if you did,” Daryl said bluntly, inching towards the tempting comfort of the fire.

The man chuckled then coughed violently, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Daryl saw it came away red. Suddenly hating himself, Daryl opened the paper bag and pulled out the sandwich. The man’s pale eyes widened at the sight of the fresh crisp salad and fluffy white bread.

“Did you steal that?”

Daryl couldn’t help but snort, “Yeah, that’s why it’s in a paper bag. I made them package it up for me before I stole it.”

The man didn’t seem to notice his bitter sarcasm, all his attention was fixed firmly on the sandwich. Knowing he’d regret it later when he was hungry again, Daryl tore it in half and held one out to the old man across the burning trashcan. Without hesitating the man snatched the food from him and ate it in two huge bites. Daryl ate his half more slowly, savouring it and trying not to think of Rick, though it was like trying to cup water in your bare hands.

“My god,” the man breathed, face splitting into a lopsided smile that showed blackened teeth and yellow gums, “that was...thank you, son.”

“I’m not your son,” Daryl muttered, swallowing the last bit of the sandwich. He decided not to reveal the cake - that was too good to share. 

“No...” the old man murmured, his eyes clouding over as he looked through Daryl off into the distance, “you’re not.” 

Feeling uncomfortable, Daryl cleared his throat. Snapping back to reality, the old man blinked and looked at Daryl with newfound interest. 

“So, tell me,” he said, taking off his hat to reveal a mostly bald scalp, “If you didn’t steal that sandwich how’d you get it?” 

Daryl bit his lip, unsure whether he wanted to say or not, he didn’t want to get a reputation as a cop-lover or something, a label like that could get a guy killed out here on the street.

“Some guy,” he said, shrugging his shoulders dismissively. 

The man’s eyes narrowed, “you suck him off for it?”

“What? No!” Daryl snapped, though his stomach knotted itself painfully.

Smirking, the old man put his hat back on before he said, “Makes no difference to me, son, a man does whatever it takes to survive out here.”

“I didn’t do anything to get it,” Daryl growled, considering leaving, “It ain’t like that.”

“Well then,” the man said knowingly, eyeing Daryl with amusement and some jealously, “If you got a friend who did it out of the kindness of his heart than I’m telling you to hold on to him with tooth and nail.”

Daryl felt his cheeks hot up and he looked down sheepishly, “I think I might have already burnt that bridge.”

The man’s face fell and he stepped around the burning trashcan towards Daryl. He put a heavy hand on his shoulder and told him in a gruff voice, “Then I suggest you put out the flames and start rebuilding it. I’ve been living on the street for forty years now, so take it from me, you won’t survive out here without someone watching out for ya.”

Daryl looked up and met the old man’s eyes and saw the pain of loss reflected in them. Mouth dry, Daryl asked slowly, “D-did you have something like that?”

The corner of the old man’s mouth twitched and he removed his hand from Daryl’s shoulder, “Once...but not anymore. And if I still did then I wouldn’t be here. A friend like that, they can help you get out of this hellhole.”

“But what if you don’t know how to let them...to let them in” Daryl whispered, his heart aching.

“Having no one is what gets people in our situation, son, having someone is the only way you ever gonna get out of it. So you find a way to trust the guy, or you will regret it for every miserable day of the rest of your life.” 

Stunned, Daryl could think of nothing to say in response so instead he reached back into the paper bag and pulled out the piece of cake.

“What’s your name?” He asked the old man as he halved the cake, the chocolate icing covering his fingers.

“Hershel,” the old man told him, taking the offered cake with a disbelieving look on his face as if Daryl had just handed him a block of gold or the winning lottery ticket.

“Thanks for the advise, Hershel,” Daryl said as he turned on his heel to leave, a plan forming in his mind.

“Wait,” Hershel called after him, “Where are you going?”

Daryl looked back over his shoulder at the old man and smiled, “To get arrested.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think of Hershel's cameo? Glenn and Maggie are gonna be appearing in the next chapter. I hope you like it, please let me know in a comment, they mean the world to me! Thanks for reading. X


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glenn and Maggie feature in this chapter :) yay (just to clarify Maggie is not Hershel's daughter in this story, there is no relation between them!)  
> Enjoy :)

When Rick walked into the police station at the end of his shift the first thing he saw was Glenn perched on the edge of the reception desk with the receptionist, Maggie, holding a towel to his face. 

“Jesus,” Shane snorted as he stepped in behind Rick, “what the hell happened to you, Glenn?” 

The young officer grimaced and Maggie dropped the towel from his face to reveal an impressive bruise across his cheek. 

“This guy punched me,” Glenn muttered, straightening up, “He’s locked up in the back.”

“What happened?” Rick demanded, a rush of anger coursing through him. Glenn had only joined the force six months ago but Rick could tell he already had what it took to be a good cop. He was honest, brave, and level-headed, all perfect qualities. Rick had grown very fond of the kid these past few months and to see him hurt made his blood rise. 

“I was out front in the car park when this guy appeared. He was agitated and...he just seemed like trouble, so I stopped him and asked what was wrong, what he wanted,” Glenn paused and glanced at Maggie, who smiled at him reassuringly and laid a hand on his arm, “he demanded to see you – Rick – said it was really important.” 

Rick stiffened and folded his arms across his chest, Glenn continued, “I told him you were out on patrol, but that only wound him up more. I told him to relax and I tried to calm him down...I – I put my hand on his arm and he just snapped, he hit me. A couple of the other guys inside saw what happened and came out and restrained him.” 

“How long has he been locked up in the cells?” Rick asked, feeling uneasy, who could want to see him that desperately? It couldn’t be anything to do with Carl or Judith, Lori would have called him, or Shane. 

Maggie glanced at her watch and answered for Glenn, “about an hour.” 

“Did you search him?” Shane asked, frowning. 

Glenn nodded, “Of course, but he didn’t have anything on him.” 

“That’s something at least,” Shane muttered, nudging Rick with his elbow, “he could have been carry a gun or something.” 

“No,” Glenn chipped in, “I mean he had nothing on him, no wallet, no ID, no mobile, no keys - nothing. I think...by the looks of him he’s homeless.” 

Rick’s heart missed a beat and suddenly his feet were carrying him forwards round the reception and through the door leading to the cells. The station was only small and there was just one large cell capable of holding up to twenty, but right then there was only a single figure sitting on the wooden bench that ran the length of one side. 

Daryl hadn’t noticed Rick enter, he was slump forwards with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. He had been relieved of his leather jacket and without it Rick could see just how painfully thin he was, even though he was wearing a jumper over a t-shirt. The sight of him locked up in the cell, so alone and dejected was like a knife to the gut and Rick turned to the cop who was standing guard. 

“Give me the keys,” he ordered, holding out his hand. At hearing his voice, Daryl’s head snapped up like a bloodhound and he leapt to his feet. 

“Rick!” He cried, darting forwards and seizing hold of the bars. The cop glanced sideways at Daryl then back to Rick and saw the dangerous look on his Deputy’s face. 

“Sure, boss,” he said quickly, unhooking the keys from his belt and handed them over. 

“Leave,” Rick told him, striding to the cell door and inserting the key. He paused, waiting for the sound of the door swinging shut behind the cop to reach his ears before he turned the key and pulled open the barred door. 

Before he could say anything Daryl launched himself at him, throwing his arms around him and burrowing into his chest as if he was trying to merge into him. Taken aback, Rick stood there dumbfounded for a moment, arms held awkwardly out to one side. Daryl shook against him and Rick felt the wetness of tears on the side of his neck. 

“Oh, Daryl,” he breathed, relaxing and wrapping his arms around the other man’s back. He could feel Daryl’s spine and ribs and he shuddered. 

“I’m sorry,” Daryl whispered into the collar of his uniform, “for running out on you like that. I...I got spooked. I’m not good with people and...feelings. I find it hard –“ 

“- It’s alright,” Rick interrupted him, gently lifting Daryl’s head from his shoulder so he could see his face, “you don’t need to apologise.” 

Relief and gratitude shone in Daryl’s tear-filled eyes and his cheeks had a faint tint of pink to them, Rick thought he had never seen anything more heartbreakingly beautiful. Before either of them could speak again, the door behind Rick opened and Shane and Glenn came in. Daryl leapt away from Rick as if he’d been electrocuted though not fast enough. 

Shane raised a questioning eyebrow and asked, “You know this guy I take it than, Rick?” 

Rick nodded, reaching out to lay a soothing hand on Daryl’s shoulder before turning to face the two other police officers. “His name’s Daryl and he’s my friend.” 

“Your friend?” Shane repeated disbelievingly, he jabbed his finger towards Glenn, “friends of cops don’t normally go around punching other cops.” 

Out of the corner of his eye Rick saw Daryl flinched and Glenn took a step forwards. 

“It’s nothing, just a misunderstanding,” the young officer said, eying Daryl like a kid did when they weren’t sure they should be afraid or not, “you’ve got a mean right hook on you there, Daryl.” 

“Thanks,” Daryl muttered, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. 

“Glenn, he assaulted you!” Shane gapped, “for no reason.” 

“I said it was a misunderstanding,” Glenn told the larger man defiantly, raising his chin high and not backing down as Shane towered over him. Rick was reminded yet again why he liked Glenn so much, it took a certain type of person to stand up to a guy like Shane. “I’m not pressing charges.” 

Shane looked incredulously from Glenn to Rick, “So we just let assaults on officers pass now?” 

“I’m sorry,” Daryl blurted, taking a step forwards so he was standing at Rick’s side who decided there and then that that was where he belonged, “I lost my temper, I get carried away like that sometimes, I wanted punch any cop again.” 

Shane moved towards Daryl and Rick tensed, ready to step between them, but Daryl stopped him with a brush of fingers against his own. Daryl didn’t move as Shane crowded up into his personal space, he held his furious gaze and kept his cool. Pride swelled in Rick’s chest and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. 

“I hope for your sake you stick to that promise,” Shane growled, eyes roaming Daryl’s face. 

“You heard what he said Shane,” Rick muttered, putting a firm hand onto his partner’s shoulder, “Glenn isn’t pressing chargers. Back off.” 

Shane took a step back and looked at Rick with unexpected bitterness, “You’d take his side over mine?” 

“It’s not about taking sides, Shane,” Rick said carefully, knowing how touchy his friend could be when he was in this mood, “this has nothing to do with you. The matters closed. It’s getting late, your shift has ended, go home to Lori.” 

Shane’s eyes flashed and his hands unclenched at his sides. “Alright,” he muttered, shooting Daryl one last mistrusting look, “I’ll tell the kids you said hi, shall I?” 

The blow was low and stung; it wasn’t missed by Glenn who winced sympathetically on Rick’s behalf. Setting his jaw hard, Rick narrowed his eyes and tried to keep the anger from his voice as he growled, “Go home, Shane.” 

The man grudgingly obeyed, slamming the door behind him. Rick let out his breath which he didn’t realise he’d been holding and Glenn too relaxed. 

“He can be such an asshole sometimes,” Glenn muttered, touching his bruised cheek gingerly. 

“He means well,” Rick said, glancing at Daryl, “Are you alright?” 

The man nodded, looking guilty as he watched Glenn. “I really am sorry.” 

Glenn smiled and waved his hand dismissively, “Honestly it’s fine, buddy, you may even have done me a favour.” 

Rick frowned, “How’s that exactly?” 

“Did you not see the way Maggie was hovering around me?” Glenn grinned, winking playfully, “The ladies love a war wound.” 

Rick rolled his eyes and Daryl snorted in amusement. 

“I’ll let you two get back to not-hugging,” Glenn said cheerfully, nodding to Daryl, “It was nice to meet you, though next time could you just shake my hand?” 

“Deal,” Daryl said, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Rick tried not to think too hard what it would be like to taste that smile. 

The moment the door closed behind Glenn, Rick reached out and touched Daryl’s hand, unlike before Daryl didn’t jump at the contact. 

“What happened today, Daryl?” Rick asked tentatively, spreading his fingers wide for Daryl to slip his between if he wanted to. Daryl looked down at the offered hand and moved his fingers over Rick’s. 

“I met this old man beneath the flyover,” Daryl said slowly, “I felt bad for him so shared the food you bought me and he told me to hold on to whoever it was that bought the food for me. He said that...having someone is the only way people in our situation are ever gonna get out of it.” 

A lump rose in Rick’s throat and he squeezed Daryl’s fingers, “He sounds like a wise old man.” 

Daryl nodded, “I think he is. Rick...I’m not a good guy. I’ve done things...my past it’s...not pretty. I find it hard to trust people, to let them in. I’m not an easy person to care about.”

Rick cupped Daryl’s face with his free hand and rubbed his cheek with his thumb. 

“You’re wrong, Daryl,” he told him gently, leaning in close, “your very easy to care about. Whatever you need to make it easier, whatever it is – space, comfort, backrubs – I’ll give it to you. You can trust me.” 

“I know,” Daryl said and Rick could tell he meant it, “I think the old man knew I could too, even though he’s never met you, he told me to hand on to you with tooth and nail.”

Rick chuckled, “Well let’s lay off the teeth and nails, shall we? For Glenn’s sake.” 

Daryl blushed and Rick couldn’t help but lean forwards and chase the colour with his lips across the man’s cheek. Daryl stiffened at the unexpected touch and Rick pulled back and opened his mouth to apologise. 

“Don’t,” Daryl interrupted, raising his hand to nervously touch Rick’s jaw, “That was ok.” 

“Ok?” Rick teased. 

Daryl blushed again, “Ok, a little better than ok.” 

Rick grinned and leaned in again and kissed Daryl’s other cheek. “Good,” he whispered against his skin, pulling back so not to push Daryl too far, “Shall we go?” 

Daryl frowned, “Go where?” 

“To my house,” Rick said casually, “What? You thought I was just gonna turn you back out on the street?” 

“Yes – I – No, I mean...” Daryl trailed off, his face going even redder, “Are you sure you want me in your house?” 

Rick fixed Daryl with eyes filled with tenderness, “I’m very sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shane is still a dick as in canon ;) I had fun writing this chapter; I hope you enjoyed reading it. As always please leave me a comment <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer which is why it's taken me longer to update. I hope you guys like it :) thank you for continuing to read this story.
> 
> (Sorry for any mistakes)

Daryl stared out of the car window as Rick drove down the pleasant suburb street. It was the kind he had always dreamed of living on when he had been a kid, the kind where neighbours came together once a month of a BBQ and where you could feel safe leaving your windows open during hot summer nights. He didn’t belong here, he felt like an outsider, as if he would lower the tone of the street just by passing through it. 

Rick had attempted to engross him in conversation when they had first slipped into the police cruiser but Daryl hadn’t answered his questions, he was beginning to feel as if he had made the wrong decision again. Despite Rick’s words it all still felt too good to be true, as if at any moment it would all be snatched away and revealed to be some kind of cruel joke, or sick social experiment. 

Slowing down, Rick swung the car into a driveway and Daryl peered out of the windscreen at the house, feeling his nerves return with a vengeance. 

“Well here we are,” Rick said, smiling at Daryl, “home sweet home.” 

The house was nice, Daryl didn’t know much about houses, but he immediately liked Rick’s. There was a garage attached to the side and a small porch painted white running along the front of the house. The front lawn needed a cut but other than that it was picturesque. Daryl, suddenly feeling very inadequate, shrank back in his seat and worried his bottom lip fiercely with his teeth,

“Hey,” Rick said gently, leaning in and purposely catching Daryl’s eye, “It’s alright.” 

Daryl swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat and nodded stiffly. Rick hesitated for a second then reached out and laid his hand on top of Daryl’s. 

“I want you to feel safe here, Daryl,” Rick told him, his hand warm and solid, “for as long as you want my house is your home now.” 

“Why?” Daryl asked, the back of his throat itching and his eyes beginning to pickle with tears. He wasn’t good enough for Rick. He was too damaged - too broken – and Rick deserved better, more than he could give. 

Rick sighed and removed his hand, running it through his dark hair, “I told you why, Daryl, I want to help you. But perhaps telling you isn’t enough...” 

Daryl remained silent, worrying his lip so hard he tasted blood as he waited for Rick to tell him to get the hell out of his car and forget this had ever happened. 

“...Perhaps I’d better show you instead.” 

Suddenly Rick was leaning across the car and kissing him and Daryl almost leapt out of his seat in shock. Rick’s mouth was hot against his, his lips softer than he’d imagined, and the smell of his cologne filled his nostrils. Daryl whimpered, going limp and clamping his eyes shut. He left like he was being wrenched in two, one half of him was rejoicing that Rick was kissing him, the other half was terrified of where it would lead - the poisonous memories of his past rising up like a snake. The kiss only lasted for a couple of seconds but for Daryl it felt like eternity, his mind screaming at him, panic constricting his chest so tight it physically hurt. The moment Rick pulled back he gasped for air, his head going hazy for a second as he tilted on the edge of consciousness. He had to get out, get away. He turned blindly and tried to open the car door, but it was lock. 

“Daryl?” Rick’s voice sounded far away, reaching his ears as if through a dense fog. The panic was eating away at his commonsense, shredding his self control and composure to pieces. He had to get away - it was all too much too soon. The car seemed suddenly like a metal tomb, a box that was shrinking in on him from all sides. 

A muffled cry escaped his mouth and Rick, seeing his desperation, pressed the button his side of the car and Daryl’s door unlocked. Fumbling with the handle, Daryl almost fell out of the car as the door swung open. In his haste to get out he forgot about his seatbelt, trapping him in place and jamming fast as he lurched against it. “Daryl, stop!” Rick’s voice echoed in his ears as the Deputy quickly released the seatbelt for him, fearing he would hurt himself if he didn’t. The moment he was free, Daryl tumbled out of the car, grazing his knee painfully.

“Shit, Daryl, wait!” Rick called after, him ripping his own seatbelt off and shoving open the driver’s door. “Daryl, stop, I’m sorry!”

But Daryl no longer heard his words. All he could hear was his own panting breath and pounding heart. He scrambled upright and tried to run but Rick dived across the bonnet of the car and reached him before he was able to take more than a couple of steps.

“Stop, Daryl, calm down!” Rick grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him back around to face him, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Daryl knew his face was as white as a sheet, his eyes mad and bulging in panic. He could feel Rick’s hand through his clothes, red-hot like a cattle rod. He could even smell his own skin searing – though he knew it was all in his head - and the scars of the cigarette burns dotted over his body flaring up as if they were fresh. 

“Let go of me!” Daryl shouted, jerking his arm out of Rick’s grip. The Deputy held up his hands immediately but took a step towards him. 

“Daryl...” he began in a slow, steady voice, “It’s alright. I’m sorry I kissed you like that without warning. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“You...I...” Daryl stammered, the panic beginning to cease as suddenly as it had consumed him, “I told you...”

“Told me what, Daryl?” Rick asked, slowly lowering his hands, his handsome face and blue eyes so filled with concern that Daryl felt a stab of rage at himself for causing Rick such worry.

“My past...” Daryl didn’t want Rick to know the truth, it would change the way he looked at him, “I find it hard to trust - physical contact like...like that it’s...difficult for me, brings back memories –“ He broke off, unable to say it aloud.

“Ok,” Rick said, his face darkening for a moment as he registered what Daryl was hinting at, “god, I had no idea, I’m so sorry, Daryl.”

Daryl took a deep breath and let it out slowly before saying quietly, “It’s not your fault, you didn’t know.”

“Still, I’m sorry,” Rick held open his arms in a silent invitation. Daryl hesitated for a moment, he could handle a hug, he told himself, Rick had just caught him off guard in the car - he hadn’t meant any harm. Daryl conquered his apprehension and stepped into Rick’s arms and loosely wrapped his around the man’s waist. He closed his eyes and pressed his nose into the man’s shoulder, willing the hideous memories of his past from his mind, forcing them back deep down inside of him where they belonged. 

“Come on,” Rick murmured gently, squeezing Daryl’s shoulder reassuringly, “let’s go inside. I don’t know about you but I’m starving.” The mention of food helped to distract Daryl somewhat and he nodded in agreement. 

Rick retrieved his keys from the car’s ignition and led Daryl up the couple of wooden steps of the porch to the front door. There was a rolled up newspaper on the mat which Rick bent down and picked up before unlocked the door. Daryl glanced uneasily over his shoulder, feeling as if he was breaking in to the house and was about to be caught in the act by the police. He didn’t miss the irony of that, his eyes flicking to the police cruiser parked in the driveway then to Rick. Pushing the door open, Rick walked inside and switched on a lamp which sat on a small table in the hallway. 

Daryl hovered awkwardly in the doorway and Rick smiled in amusement. “What are you a vampire? Come in, Daryl.” 

Steadying himself, Daryl stepped over the threshold and breathed in the smell of the house - a pleasant mix of Rick’s own individual smell with traces of his cologne. The hallway opened up into a nicely sized open space with stairs led up and two doors branched off on either side. Daryl couldn’t help but cast a longing thought to the bathroom which must await upstairs, the prospect of a shower filling his mind. 

Rick unlaced his shoes and motioned to Daryl to do the same. He quickly kicking them off, grimacing at the smell, though Rick showed no evidence of noticing, he was too polite. Shrugging off his leather jacket, Daryl hung it next to Rick’s, feeling his ears go slightly warm at the sight of their coats hanging side by side like that. 

Rick strode towards the right-hand door and opened it. A blur of movement made Daryl jump as a huge dog barrelled out from the room and pressed itself into Rick’s legs. 

“Hey, girl,” Rick greeted, catching the German Shepherd around the neck and ruffling its thick fur. “Daryl, meet Jessie.” Jessie eyed Daryl suspiciously from Rick’s side, her black nose twitching and pointed ears flattening. 

“Do you like dogs?” Rick added sheepishly, “I should have asked before letting her out.”

“No,” Daryl said quickly, taking a step forwards, “It’s just they don’t normally like me.” As he spoke Jessie left Rick’s side and padded confidently towards him. 

“It’s alright,” Rick said gently, though Daryl wasn’t sure if he was reassuring him or the dog. Slowly, he extended his hand towards the German Shepherd and tried not to focus on how powerful its large jaws looked. Jessie sniffed his hand once then pressed against his legs like an oversized cat, wagging her tail eagerly. Daryl touched her thick fur and cautiously stroked her side. 

“She was part of the K9 unit,” Rick told him, “but she failed her training. I didn’t want to see her end up in some kennel so I adopted her.” 

“She’s a lucky girl,” Daryl muttered, unable to resist smiling as Jessie titled back her head and looked up at him. 

“Yeah, she’s great company,” Rick agreed, though there was an edge of sadness to his tone. 

“What do you want for dinner?” Rick asked, turning towards the other door and opening it. Jessie clearly understood what he just said for she darted after Rick into the kitchen, giving a small bark of excitement. Daryl followed more slowly, taking in the spacious kitchen and trying not to touch anything, afraid he was going to get it dirty. 

“Can I – I mean – would it be alright if I um...” Daryl trailed off, awkwardly fingering the edge of his filthy jumper. 

“Shower first?” Rick finished for him, “Of course, why don’t you do that whilst I cook something? Here, let me show you the bathroom upstairs.”

There were three bedrooms upstairs and two bathrooms, one an en-suite attached to the master bedroom and it was that one Rick led Daryl too. He cast an eye over Rick’s bedroom, simple wooden furniture, large double bed, and a framed wall-length photo of the New York skyline. The en-suite was larger than Daryl had expected, the tiles cold through the holes in his socks, and it was also a wet-room, the shower head simply fitted in the wall, no glass screens or cubical to stand it. Daryl immediately both hated and loved it. 

“There’s shower gel and shampoo on the shelf,” Rick indicated, “and toothpaste and a spare brush in the cabinet behind the mirror. I’ll leave some clothes outside on my bed. Make yourself at home, Daryl.” 

“Thanks,” Daryl said, watching Rick leave and waiting for the door to close behind him before he let out his breath. He looked around and moved towards where the shower head was. He examined the chrome knobs on the tiled wall before pressing the ‘start’ button. The hiss of water made him jump and he narrowly avoided getting soaked. He fiddled with the knobs until the water was the right temperature then stripped off his clothes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had undressed fully and it was as if he was peeling off layers of his skin. He dumped the filthy clothes into a heap then stepped under the hot spray. 

It was nothing short than heavenly. The rhythm of the water hitting his shoulders loosened his tensed muscles and warmed his bones. He felt slightly exposed without any glass surrounding him but he had to admit he liked the freeness of the wet-room. His mind flickered to how easy it would be for him and Rick to both fit under the spray and he flushed, feeling ashamed. To get his mind out of the gutter, he reached out to the shelf to his right and selected a shower gel and sponge. 

The water swirling around the drain turned brown with grime as Daryl washed and his skin was pink from the heat and scrubbing by the time the water eventually ran clear. After washing his hair too, he just stood under the spray for a minute, eyes closed and body feeling heavy with sudden exhaustion. He didn’t want to turn off the shower but felt guilty about using the water and his stomach was growling with hunger. 

Switching off the shower, Daryl treed water across the steam-filled room to the sink and opened the mirror. Inside was a collection of small bottles and boxes; Daryl had to resist reading the labels on them. He found the spare toothbrush Rick had mentioned still sealed in plastic, a tube of toothpaste, and a comb. He towel dried his hair roughly before combing it straight, considering cutting it all off with the scissors he spied in the cabinet alongside Rick’s razor but decided against it. He really wanted a shave but didn’t want Rick to be hanging around for him to finish so they could eat dinner, so instead he concentrated on getting himself dry. 

Tying a large towel around his waist, he went to the door and opened it. The cooler air of the bedroom raised goosepimples over his bare skin and he smiled as he saw Jessie laying on Rick’s bed, her head on top of the small pile of folded clothes Rick had left out for him. 

“Keeping an eye on me?” Daryl asked the dog, scratching her behind the ear and pulling the clothes out from under her. She thumped her tail heavily against the mattress, watching him with big brown eyes. Lifting the clothes in his arms, Daryl leaned down and pressed his face into them, inhaling the clean smell of washing powder. He pulled on a pair of socks and white boxers – trying not to think how Rick must have worn them too – followed by loose grey jogging trousers and a simple black t-shirt. The clothes were too big on his skinny frame but they were soft and smelt of Rick.

Jessie jumped off the bed and Daryl followed her downstairs to the kitchen. The smell of cooking food made his mouth water and he was surprised to see Rick had also got changed whilst he had been in the shower. The man now wore a pair of jeans and a thin red v-neck jumper with the sleeve pushed up over his elbows. He looked different dressed in normal clothes (not that Daryl didn’t appreciate a man in uniform), he seemed younger somehow, less serious and alert. He looked good, domestic suited him, and Daryl caught himself staring. 

“I hope you’re not allergic to anything,” Rick said over his shoulder without turning away from the stove. 

“Not that I know of,” Daryl replied, taking a seat timidly on one of the stools arranged around the kitchen island. He watched the play of muscles across Rick’s back beneath his jumper as he stirred the pots on the stove. Jessie sniffed around Rick’s feet and he nudged her back with his leg, out of the way of getting burnt if he accidently dropped anything. The dog retreated to Daryl and lay down by his stool, her head on her paws. Rick had left his police belt on the island and Daryl’s eye was drawn to the holstered gun. He shuddered, remembering what it felt like to hold such a weapon, the weight of it in his hands, the kick when you pulled the trigger, the terrifying feeling of power... 

“Here we are,” Rick said, snapping Daryl back as he turned and put a large plate of food down in front of him. It was rice and chicken mixed with peppers and tomatoes in a sauce that smelt delicious. Rick put down his own plate, then fetched two forks and two cold beers from the fridge. The sight of the bottled beer made Daryl’s stomach flip. 

“T-thanks,” he stammered, taking the fork Rick held out to him and began to eat. It was a mission to not wolf-down the plate of food, he kept reminding himself that no one was going to come along and take it from him. He didn’t think he had ever tasted anything so good. Rick watched him eat the whole time, never taking his eyes off of him. Daryl kept his own gazed fixed firmly down on his plate, he didn’t touch the beer. 

Rick noticed and asked, “Do you not drink?” 

Daryl shook his head and said around a mouthful of rice, “After watching your dad drink himself into a coma every night it kind of loses its appeal.”

Rick paused at Daryl’s words, his folk halfway to his mouth, “What about your mother?”

“Dead,” Daryl muttered, scrapping his folk across the plate, “She died when I was twelve years old.”

“I’m sorry.”

Daryl shrugged, “I don’t really remember her.” 

It was a lie. He remembered the smell of her perfume, the sound of her voice, and the small wooden box she kept hidden beneath a loose floorboard in his room. She would come in to his room in the early hours of the morning and hide what little money she managed to keep from his father inside the box. Daryl had pretended to be asleep whenever she did that but he knew now that she must have known he had been awake. But, most of all, he remembered how she used to protect him, put herself between him and his father when he came home high or drunk or both and in a foul mood. How, despite the pain she was in from his abuse, would always hold him close and comfort him, stroking his hair and humming under her breath the same tune until he fell asleep. 

 

“What about siblings?” Rick asked, putting down his fork, suddenly seeming uninterested in the food.

Daryl hesitated for a moment, taking a long time to swallow his mouthful. “I have an older brother, Merle.”

“And where’s he?”

“Prison,” Daryl muttered, scowling angrily at his plate, “I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Ok,” Rick said carefully, picking his fork back up, “that’s ok, we don’t have to. How about I tell you a little about myself?”

Daryl shrugged, pretending not to be bothered but really wanting to know everything. Rick told him about his ex-wife, Lori, and his two kids, Carl and Judith, about how they killed with their mother and her new boyfriend, who just so happened to be his best friend and partner, Shane. 

“And that don’t piss you off?” Daryl asked, looked sceptically at Rick, “that they’re together?”

“No,” Rick said and Daryl could tell he was being honest, “It’s a little awkward at times, but that’s mostly because of the kids, not them. Me and Lori got married too young, people change, we grew apart...I still care about her and want her to be happy. And she’s goof for Shane, believe it or not he’s actually a lot less...hot-headed now than he used to be.”

Daryl snorted, remembering how the guy had got all up in his face back at the station. “I wouldn’t want to have met him before then.”

Rick smiled across at him and Daryl’s stomach gave a flip, “No, no you wouldn’t have.” 

They finished their meal in silence after that, Daryl feeling more comfortable and Rick content he had leant at least something about the man he had invited into his home. After dinner they washed up together, Daryl scrubbing the plates before handing them to Rick to dry and put away. Daryl was sure the occasional brush of elbows and fingers between them wasn’t an accident on Rick’s behalf and he found it hard to keep a straight face. Rick fed Jessie then showed Daryl the living room where he encouraged him to settle down on the sofa whilst he switched on the TV. 

“I’m just gonna take Jessie out for a walk, I won’t be long,” Rick said as Daryl flicked through the channels on the remote.

“I’ll come with you,” Daryl said quickly, not wanting to be left alone but Rick shook his head. 

“No, you stay here, you look exhausted. Relax, I’ll be back in like half an hour.”

Reluctantly, Daryl watched the man and excitable dog leave and was left staring at TV screen without really seeing what was playing on it. Now he was alone he realised what Rick had said was true, he was exhausted. He covered his mouth as he yawn hugely and turned down the volume of the TV slightly. Cautiously, as if he would be scolded for doing so, he laid out on the sofa on his side, putting one of the pillows underneath his head and wrapping his arms tightly around himself. It was the most comfortable he had been for...longer than he could properly remember. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, only to rest his eyes whilst he waited for Rick to come back, but he was fooling himself thinking that. The minute he closed his eyes he was slipping into unconsciousness. He was warm, full and comfortable, but most of all he felt safe.

When Rick arrived home to find Daryl fast asleep on the sofa he smiled knowingly and gently took the remote from where it hung from Daryl’s limp fingers, switching off the TV. He closed the curtains then went upstairs and found a blanket which he brought downstairs and laid over Daryl. 

Jessie watched him from her bed in the corner of the room and Rick whispered to her, “Look after him tonight.” She seemed to understand and laid her head on her paws, eyes trained on the man asleep on the sofa. 

Rick crouched down and softly pushed the hair off Daryl’s face and simply looked at him for a minute. 

“Things will get better now,” he whispered.

Daryl mumbled something in his sleep and Rick smiled, feeling the warm balloon in his chest expand. Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and brushed a light kiss to Daryl’s forehead. 

“I promise you, Daryl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please leave me a comment <3 they make me write more xD


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while! Been really busy with university work and was a little lost for inspiration with this chapter so it kind of turned out as a filler chapter, but the next one will be better I promise! Hope you like it.

Rick did not sleep well that night. He spent most of it lying on his back staring up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Daryl’s snores drifting up through the floor from the living room directly below. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing the right thing. After witnessing how Daryl reacted to the kiss in the car then what he had alluded to over dinner Rick wondered if Daryl needed professional, a doctor or psychologist. But he knew that Daryl would never agree to see a professional, to talk to a complete stranger about his dark past. Rick wanted to help Daryl, wanted him to feel comfortable, to be happy, but could he give that to him? He could only imagine what Daryl suffered growing up and as he lay there in the darkness of his room, he couldn’t stop the horrific possibilities chasing themselves around his head. Being a cop he had unfortunately seen his fair share of child abuse but it never got any easier to witness - especially now he had kids of his own. If anyone ever hurt Judith or Carl...Rick couldn’t bear the thought. 

Rick finally managed to doze off sometime before dawn, the last thing he remembered was the first hint of pale light peeking underneath the bottom of the bedroom curtains. When he woke up the clock on the bedside table read 8:45 and he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. 

There was snuffling outside his door and he forced himself out of bed to open the door. Jessie stood on the threshold, her tail wagging madly and tongue lolling out in a wolfish grin. 

“Morning,” Rick said to the dog, greeting her with a good stroke and scratch behind the ears, “come on, girl.” 

They headed downstairs and Jessie went trotting off to wait by the backdoor but Rick hesitated by the living room. Daryl was curled up on the sofa, breathing deeply, still fast asleep. A smile tugged at the corner of Rick’s mouth. He wondered how long it had been since Daryl had had a full night’s sleep with a roof over his head. 

Jessie wined and Rick tore his attention from Daryl. Walking into the kitchen he shivered as his bare feet touched cool tiles. Unlocking the backdoor, he opened it and Jessie bounded out into the back garden. Turning on the kettle, Rick busied himself making a pot of coffee before pouring a mug and stepping out onto his back porch. The day was warm and fine, the sky bright with only a few wisps of cloud. He stood on the edge of the wooden porch, sipping his hot coffee, watching Jessie sniff around the garden. 

There was movement behind him and the noise of someone clearing their throat awkwardly. Rick turned around, smiling at Daryl hovering in the kitchen behind him. His dark hair was tousled from sleep and there was a crease running down his right cheek. Rick felt an odd sense of contentment at seeing the other man wearing his clothes and something in his stomach fluttered.

“Good morning,” he said, stepping back inside the house, “how’d you sleep?”

“The best in years,” Daryl answered, his cheeks tinting with a blush as his eyes darted from Rick’s chest up to his face. 

Realising for the first time that he was shirtless and wearing only a pair of pyjama shorts, Rick blushed too and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m used to living alone.”

“It’s fine,” Daryl said quickly, his voice slightly higher than usual, “It’s your house.”

To distract them both Rick asked, “Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, orange juice, water?” 

“Coffee, thanks.” Rick crossed to the kettle and began to make another cup. Daryl hovered a few feet away, looking anywhere but at Rick’s bare torso. 

“Do you have work today?” Daryl asked as Rick handed him the steaming mug. 

“No, I’ve been covering a lot of shifts recently so have a few days off. I thought today we could take a drive into the city, buy you some clothes.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Rick,” Daryl objected not to Rick’s surprise, “You’ve already done enough –“

“- It’s no bother, Daryl, honestly. We’ll just buy a few things, underwear, jeans, a new pair of shoes. I’ll dig out some of my old t-shirts and tops for you, once you’ve got a few good meals under your belt I think we’ll be roughly the same size.” 

Daryl looked down uneasily into his mug of coffee and Rick stepped towards him, wishing he could ease his discomfort, prove to him it wasn’t any trouble. Daryl looked up and met his eyes. Rick smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner and brushed the back of Daryl’s free hand with his fingertips. The other man tensed but didn’t move his hand away, instead he slowly turned it over to return the gentle touch. Heart leaping, Rick slowly stroked the back of Daryl’s hand with his thumb, feeling every vein and ligament. He never broke eye contact with the other man, hoping Daryl could see the good intentions in them. 

“You can trust me, Daryl,” Rick whispered, slowly slipping his fingers between the other man’s and pressing their palms together, “I know you said trust comes hard for you, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to gain yours, to wait.”

Rick’s nerves were buzzing, his brain trying frantically to calculate Daryl’s mood to know how he'd react, to try and make sure he wasn't pushing him too hard. He didn't know how else so show his commitment to Daryl without touching him and he wanted to touch him, wanted to feel the warmth of his body, the sensation of a kiss…

“You might be waiting for a long time,” Daryl murmured, finally looking down and breaking eye contact.

Sadness stabbed Rick between the ribs but he squeezed Daryl’s hand and said, “however long it takes.”

Daryl glanced back up to him, his hair falling across his face, hiding his expression. Unable to stop himself, Rick raised his free hand and gently pushed back the hair, allowing his fingers to sweep the length of Daryl’s jaw. Their eyes locked and Rick could have sworn Daryl leaned in to him slightly, his eyes fluttering shut for a second, his lips parting to let out his breath in a soft sigh. But then Rick blinked and the mask had fallen back over Daryl’s face. The other man cleared his throat and stepped back, tugging his hand free. For a second Rick almost held on but he knew that would be pushing things to far. 

Awkwardness hung in the air between them like a storm cloud and Rick hastily asked, “Would you like some breakfast?” 

Daryl nodded, taking a large gulp of his coffee to hide the way his hand was shaking, but Rick noticed, he had had many years noticing such body language being a cop.

After breakfast, Daryl asked if he could use Rick’s razor to shave and Rick left Daryl once more in his en-suite bathroom whilst he took Jessie out for a jog around the block. As he slipped into his running shorts, t-shirt and trainers, Rick allowed himself to hope that one day down the line Daryl would be joining him on a morning jog.

When he and Jessie got back, Rick emptied a tin of dog food into her bowl and left her downstairs in the kitchen chasing the bowl around the floor as she made sure to get every last piece. Climbing the stairs he listened for the sound of running water but heard nothing. The door to the en-suite was closed and he hesitated. 

“I'm back, Daryl,” he called. There was no response and tiny prickles of concern ran down his spine. “Daryl?” 

Rick stepped to the closed door and knocked on it loudly, “are you alright?” 

Still nothing, not the sound of running water or the flush of the toilet. 

“Daryl, open the door,” Rick said, his voice rising and slipping into its commanding cop tone. He banging his fist on the wood again, his heart pounding against his ribs and the sweat covering his body from the jog cooling.

“Daryl!” His voice was almost a shout now. Jessie appeared in the doorway of his room, her ears flat and hackles down her back slightly raised at Rick’s loud voice.

Rick tried the handle. He had expected it to be locked but it turned beneath his frantic twist and the door swung open

“Daryl…” Rick trailed off, relief flooding through him like the wave on a beach as he saw Daryl standing at the sink. Suddenly feeling foolish, Rick scorned himself for assuming the worst.

“What's wrong, Daryl?” He asked, stepping into the bathroom cautiously, “Why didn't you answer me when I called?”

“I..” Daryl whispered, his hands gripping the edge of the sink so hard his knuckles were white. He didn't turned around to look at Rick, instead just stared at his reflection in the mirror, wide-eyed and breathless. Rick noticed for the first time that Daryl was shirtless and his eyes fell upon the scars across his back. 

“Oh, Daryl,” he whispered, taking a step closer but holding himself back from reaching out to touch the other man. I hope whoever did that to him is dead, Rick thought furiously.

“I look so…I barely recognise myself,” Daryl stammered, his voice thick with emotion as if his throat was closing up with the threat of tears.

Tearing his eyes from the scars, Rick focused instead on the mirror and saw to his surprise that Daryl was right. Without the layer of facial hair he looked much younger, his features more refined, lips fuller and eyes brighter. Rick felt his breath catch in his throat, beautiful, he thought. 

Swallowing hard, Rick said quietly, “You look good.” 

Daryl’s eyes darted up and fixed on Rick behind him in the mirror. They stared at one another for a moment, the tension between them crackling like a live wire.

“T-thanks,” Daryl said, his cheeks instantly flushing and Rick smiled broadly, knowing how important that was that Daryl took the compliment.

“How about when we’re out we get your hair cut?” He asked as casually as he could.

“Ok,” Daryl said, nodding, “I will find a way to pay you back for all this someday, Rick.”

Rick smiled again, “I'm sure you will, Daryl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments mean everything to me <3 next chapter: Rickyl haircut and shopping trip!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter :) Beth make's a cameo appearance!
> 
> (Sorry for any mistakes)

Despite his nerves, Daryl felt excited as Rick parted the car and they began their shopping trip. He was wearing a simple blue shirt and a pair of Rick’s black jeans which - even with the borrowed belt done up as tight as it would go - still hung low on his bony hips. Rick had thrown out Daryl’s old clothes with his permission so there was no going back - he had to let the man buy him new clothes unless he wanted to walk around naked. The only physical thing that remained from his time on the streets was his leather jacket, it carried far too many memories for Daryl to let Rick throw it away. One day he would get it repaired, he had promised himself.

The crowds of shoppers unnerved Daryl slightly and he kept close to Rick, so close that their shoulders bumped together and their hands brushed together. It would be so easy for Daryl to thread his fingers with Rick’s and walk hand-in-hand but he held back. Not that he didn't want to, every slight brush of skin made his heart race, but he was too nervous to. He wondered if Rick wanted to take his hand as much as he did and he glanced shyly at the man to see his expression was relaxed and cheerful. Yet again Daryl was struck by how handsome Rick was and he quickly looked away, feeling warmth blossoming across his cheeks.

They went first to a hair salon and Daryl hesitated in the doorway to the sunlight lit shop. One of the girls who worked there smiled warmly at Rick as he strode inside confidently. She was young, Daryl guessed in her late teens or maybe early twenties, but her small slender frame and round face made her look younger than he expected she really was. Her long blonde hair was pulled up high in a ponytail and large blue eyes darted over Daryl’s messy hair with professional amusement.

“Hello, Beth, how are you?” Rick asked the girl warmly. Daryl felt a flicker of jealously that Rick was on first name basis with the pretty girl but immediately told himself he was being foolish, Rick was old enough to be her father and besides he was looking at her with nothing be pure intentions in his eyes.

“Good, thank you, Rick,” Beth’s voice had a strong southern twang to it, “Are you booked in for your usual cut today? I don’t think I saw your name in the appointment book?”

Rick shook his head, “Nope, I'm not here for a cut today. Daryl, on the other hand…” Rick half turned towards him, holding out his arm in a gesture for him to step forwards, “Needs ones, as you can see.” Daryl shot Rick a glare and the man winked at him playfully, Daryl’s stomach flipped.

“Nice to meet you Daryl,” Beth said, smiling sweetly at him, “you're in luck, I'm free now so if you follow me…” Beth turned and began to walk down the salon towards a vacant chair. Daryl looked quickly at Rick who nodded encouragingly at him. Taking a deep breath, Daryl followed after Beth and sat down in the chair she stood waiting behind.

As soon as he was seated, Beth brushed her fingers through his hair and he jumped as if she'd electrocuted him. 

“Oh, I'm sorry!” Beth gasped, jerking back her hands, “Did I hurt you?”

Daryl saw the concern on Beth’s face in the mirror and felt guilty at startling her like that.

“N-no, I'm sorry, it's just…I –“

“-Daryl finds unannounced contact…difficult,” Rick said, swooping in to save Daryl from having to awkwardly explain, “Just go slowly and warn him before you do something.”

“Oh, of course, I'm sorry, Daryl,” Beth apologised again, smiling kindly at him in the mirror. Daryl was shocked. He wasn't used to people being so understanding. Embarrassed, he blushed and looked down quickly into his lap. He worried his bottom lip anxiously between his teeth.

“How about this…” Rick started, reading Daryl’s distress like a book. He snagged an empty stool and dragging it over to sit close to Daryl. Glancing sideways at the other man, Daryl nodded and smiled weakly in gratitude, Rick’s presence instantly reassuring him. 

“Alright then, Daryl,” Beth said gently, “what kind of cut do you want?”

Daryl looked at her standing behind him in the mirror, opening and closing his mouth, unsure of what to say. “Just…something normal.”

Beth smiled at him, nodded, “Ok, do you want to keep some of the length?”

Daryl looked at his own reflection, surprised again his clean-shaven face, and decided, “I think I prefer it kind of long…”

“Alright than, I’ll cut a little off and tidy you up a bit first,” Beth explained kindly, “then you can decide if you want any more off the length?”

“Ok.”

Rick smiled, catching Daryl’s eye before he reached out to lay a hand on his knee. The weight of Rick’s hand was calming and Daryl cautiously laid his own on top of it.

Beth picked out the comb and pair of scissors that were stuck inside the front pocket of her uniform and said, “I’m gonna comb your hair now, Daryl.”

“Ok,” Daryl said, focusing his attention back to the mirror, taking a deep breath. 

Rick kept his hand where it was and Daryl found himself gripping it harder as Beth began to comb his hair. If Rick hadn't been there with him, Daryl didn't think he would have been able to cope with the situation. The touch of a strange near his face, coupled with the glint of scissors and the sound of them close to his ear, all brought painful memories bobbing to the surface of his mind like corks in water. But Rick’s solid warmth next to him helped remind him that he wasn't back there - that he was safe in the present with him - and holding his hand kept him grounded.

Beth didn't cut Daryl’s hair too short to his relief and she chatted the whole time, mostly to Rick, with Daryl listening intently. He leant that she was Maggie’s little sister and was hoping to go to college and do a beauty therapy course, among other things. By the time they left the salon, Daryl had decided he liked Beth and he lifted his hand to wave goodbye to her through the glass. 

Rick led him inside a large mall which was packed with other shoppers and Daryl immediately felt on-edge. He side-stepped, almost bumping into Rick in his haste to be close to him and blushed in apology, looking down at his feet. The noise and activity was more than he was used to, the volume of people pressing in all around him and the sound of the music blaring out from the shops into the confined space caused adrenaline to buzz through his veins. Going from having minimal human contact to suddenly being surrounded by strangers was overwhelming. Daryl felt an invisible ribbon tie itself around his heart and with each passing minute the ribbon tightened. He tried to ignore it. He bit the inside of his cheek and kept his focus fixed firmly on not becoming separated from Rick amongst the crowd. 

The sheer amount of choose never ceased to both amaze and frustrate Daryl. He stood in the middle of a clothe shop – he didn’t bother to look at the name – staring around at the piles of t-shirts, jeans, jumpers, as well as suit jackets, trousers, and shirts all hanging up down the length of the store. There was so much, yet there were so many people out there like him who simply longed for a change of underwear...

“Daryl, you with me?” Rick’s voice broke Daryl’s train of thought and he blinked, locking eyes with the other man. 

“Y-yes,” he said, though he didn’t believe it himself, “It’s just all...”

“If it’s too much we can go,” Rick assured him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I know how...how much bravery it must have taken for you to let Beth cut your hair.”

Daryl looked down at his feet, embarrassed, but Rick slid his hand from his shoulder to cup his chin. Heart hammering loudly in his ears, Daryl lifted his head and stared into Rick’s face to see understanding and pride written across his handsome features. 

“You’re doing so well,” Rick murmured, his thumb softly stroking the smooth skin of Daryl’s chin, “but we can go home, if you want?”

“No,” Daryl said quickly, wanting to keep that look of pride in Rick’s eyes from dwindling, “I’m ok. Thank you.” He did not miss the way Rick had referred to his house as their home. 

“If you’re sure,” Rick said, dropping his hand and taking a step back. 

Daryl took a deep breath and composed himself. Rick smiled and ushered Daryl over to where the jeans were. He dug out two pairs, one black and skinnier around the legs, the other boot-cut and dark blue. Guessing Daryl’s size, Rick guided him to the changing rooms and handed the jeans over to Daryl. 

“I’ll be right outside,” Rick reassured him before he pulled the curtain closed.

Daryl tried on the jeans quickly, feeling vulnerable standing semi-naked in the cubical with nothing but a curtain hiding his modesty. They were slightly too big around the waist but Rick said that was good, they would still fit him once he put on some weight. Rick picked up a couple of packs of boxers, white and black, and some socks, and two pairs of shoes. Daryl felt guilty once more as Rick handed over the money for the items but he was relieved it meant they could leave the mall. 

Before they went home they stopped off at a supermarket and Rick bought a couple of bags worth of groceries which Daryl carried back to the car for him. On the ride home Rick sang along loudly (and badly) with the radio and Daryl laughed like he hadn’t done in years. The twinkle in Rick’s eyes made Daryl’s stomach come alive with a thousand tiny butterflies and a foreign smile spread across his lips. 

With every passing minute he spent in Rick’s company Daryl felt himself falling harder for the man. It was like Daryl had been drowning and he hadn’t known, as if a robe had been tied around his ankle, anchoring him to the seabed. But Rick had saved him, cut the robe and pulled him to the surface. Being in his presence was like breathing that first lung-full of cool, fresh air – exhilarating, serene and liberating all at the same time. Everything about Rick was so captivating, the way he walked and carried himself (always the cop even when he was off duty) the curve of his warm smile and the way his dark hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck. Rick was a drug – be it a life giving one - and Daryl was addicted. He dreaded to think what would happen if he was cut-off now, if Rick changed his mind and forced him to leave... The thought was unbearable and Daryl was determined not to let that happen. He wasn’t going to let anything or one ruin what he had – what he could have - here with Rick, including himself. 

Plucking up his courage, Daryl lifted his hand from his lap and reached out and touched Rick’s where he held the steering wheel. Taking his eyes off the road briefly, Rick turned his hand over and Daryl immediately threaded their fingers together. 

“Ok?” Rick asked Daryl gently, glancing back at the road. 

“Yes,” Daryl replied, truly believing he was for the first time in a long while. Rick smiled and squeezed his hand warmly. Daryl held on to Rick’s hand for the rest of the drive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave me a comment below <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :) I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it's my favourite so far! There's significant development in Rick and Daryl's relationship, slowly but surely we will get to the good stuff ;) fluff ahead <3
> 
> (Sorry for any mistakes)

After a dinner of spaghetti and garlic bread together, followed by a relaxing evening in front of the TV where Daryl dozed off and ended up resting against Rick’s side, breathing softly on his shoulder, it felt weird retiring upstairs to his bed alone. Again he had offered the spare double bedroom to Daryl but once more the man had objected, insisting the sofa was good enough for him. It wasn’t like Rick used the room for anything, it was for Carl when he came to visit, but Daryl had been adamant. 

Now, leaning back against his headboard, Rick tried to concentrate on reading but the words refused to go into his brain. He stared at the page without really seeing it. Instead, he recalled how Daryl had looked laughing in the car, the colour in his cheeks and the brightness in his eyes. The memory made warmth pool low in his stomach and Rick closed the book, putting it on his bedside table. He laid down and stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the way his body was reacting. Daryl with his clean-shaven face and haircut rose before his eyes and he groaned, throwing his arm over his face. He felt ashamed, he mustn’t think of Daryl like that right now, he wasn’t ready. Despite his morals, however, the blood continued to rush downwards. Face burning with the guilt, Rick slowly reached underneath the covers and squeezed himself through his pyjama shorts. 

Suddenly there came a knock at the door and Rick jumped. He sat up in bed, humiliation coursing through him as if he was fourteen years old and had just been caught masturbating by his mum.

“C-come in,” Rick called, his voice catching, quickly making sure the duvet was covering his lap. He ran a hand through his tousled curls and forced a smile as his bedroom door open and Daryl peered inside shyly. 

“I – did I disturb you?” Daryl asked awkwardly, stepping over the threshold.

“No,” Rick said quickly, willing himself to stop blushing, “It’s alright. What’s up, Daryl?”

Daryl looked down at the floor and awkwardly fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt. Rick waited patiently, resisting the urge to get out of bed and pull Daryl into his arms. Taking a couple of timid steps forwards, Daryl closed the door behind him and hovered uneasily. Moving over, Rick patted the bed invitingly and Daryl sat down gingerly on the edge of the mattress. 

“I...” Daryl began slowly, as if every word was a great effort, “I don’t want to mess this up.”

Rick’s heart melted and he began to reach out but Daryl moved faster, twisting round and straggling Rick’s lap over the duvet. Shocked, Rick froze and didn’t stop Daryl from tangling his fingers into his curls and angling his head up to feet his lips in a searing kiss. Daryl kissed like a drowning man, prying Rick’s lips open to delve into his mouth. It was wet and messy and Rick caught Daryl’s shoulders and pushed him back. 

“What are you doing?” He exclaimed, his stomach knotting with desire at the sight of the man’s moist, red lips and his pupils blown wide. Hurt flashed across Daryl’s face and he sagged in Rick’s lap, looking down shamefully. “I want to show you...I’m not useless, I can give you –“ 

“Who said you were useless?” Rick demanded, his hands on Daryl’s shoulders tightening, making the skinny man wince. 

“No one, Rick, I –“

“-Listen to me, Daryl,” Rick growled, loosening his grip slightly and lifting one hand to catch the man’s chin between his finger and thumb, “You have nothing to prove to me, especially not like that.”

“Y-you...” Daryl stammered, his eyes filled with confusion and face a wounded mask, “you don’t want me...Of course not – I’m so stupid – how could you want me, I’m nothing.”

Rick didn’t know what to say. His heart ached for the man straddling his lap, looking as lost and vulnerable as a child. Daryl shifting, about to move away but Rick stopped him, putting his hands down onto his thighs. Stiffening, Daryl looked down at Rick’s large, long-fingered hands splayed across his scrawny thighs then up to his piercing blue eyes. 

“You’re a fool,” Rick told him in a soft voice, “If you think that. I...I do want you, Daryl, but not before you are ready. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me or something for helping you.”

Daryl was shaking, his body quivering like a leaf in a storm and Rick sat up straighter, keeping a firm hold on the man. 

“I want you to want me to, Daryl.”

The other man blushed and Rick wrapped an arm around his back, leaning in close till their chests were touching and their breath mingled.

“I-I do,” Daryl whispered. His breath tickling Rick’s lips and he licked them subconsciously and he swore he could taste the words, sweet and addictive on them. 

“Good,” Rick murmured, stroking his hand down the length of Daryl’s spine, feeling the bump of scar tissue, “but we don’t have to do anything before you’re ready.”

Daryl stared into his eyes and Rick rubbed his side, stroking his thumb over his sharp bone. Daryl shivered and leaned in, brushing his lips against Rick’s. This time the kiss was chaste and gentle. Rick let Daryl set the pace, allowing him to slowly explore, rewarding him with hums of encouragement and tender caresses. It was magical and Rick focused everything he had to remember every detail. Daryl never made to deepen the kiss and his hands remanded timidly anchored on Rick’s shoulders, his fingers twitching as if they too wanted to explore. 

It took all Rick’s willpower to keep the lust rushing hot and heavy in his veins from overwhelming him. He imagined slipped his hands under Daryl’s thighs and flipping them over, grinding him into the mattress and taking him right there and then. Daryl would be so beautiful, laid out beneath him, his head thrown back and hands clawing at the duvet in a futile attempt to gain leverage as Rick made love to him. He could almost hear the man’s groans and the intoxicating slap of skin on skin; taste the saltiness of sweat on his tongue... 

Rick groaned - his head swimming with the images. Startled, Daryl broke the kiss and pulled back, face red and breathing heavily. Eyes flickering open, Rick smiled sheepishly at him, “Sorry.” 

Daryl let out his breath in an odd huff - almost a laugh - and Rick couldn’t help but swoop back in to kiss his flushed cheek. That made Daryl laugh properly, a deep, husky, soft chuckle that made Rick’s toes curl. Encircling his arms securely around the smaller man, Rick nuzzled his jaw to hear that wonderful sound again. Daryl Shivered with pleasure and wrapped his arm around his neck and buried his face into the spot where Rick’s neck joined his shoulder. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes until Daryl’s weight began to make Rick’s legs go numb and he shifted uncomfortably. Daryl apologised and went to slide off but Rick kept his arms locked firmly around his waist.

“You can stay,” he said quickly, indicating the free side of the bed, “If you want.”

Daryl hesitated for a second but he must have seen the hopeful look in Rick’s eyes for he nodded. They laid down side by side, Rick lifting up the duvet for Daryl slip beneath. He leaned over and switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. For a long moment there was nothing but the sound of their breathing slowly easing out as they both relaxed. They weren’t touching but Rick could still feel the heat radiating off Daryl and it helped to lull him closer to sleep. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, Rick could just make out the faint outline of the other man lying next to him and he had to resist reaching out and pulling him against his chest. That would come, he told him and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling drained. 

He was on the edge of unconsciousness when Daryl murmured, “Rick?” 

He hummed in acknowledgment, too drowsy to open his eyes. 

Daryl hesitated for a second before whispering, “Thank you.” 

His heart missing a beat, Rick reached out tentatively across the mattress till he felt Daryl’s hand. 

“You’re welcome,” he murmured. 

The last thing he was aware before he fell asleep was Daryl slowly turning over his hand on the mattress and entwining their fingers together. 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

Daryl didn’t know what he had been thinking as he had climbed the stairs to Rick’s bedroom. All he had been able to think about was that he had to do something to show Rick that his kindness wasn’t going unnoticed, that he could give him what he wanted despite the painful memories it brought back from his past. He was just so afraid that Rick would get frustrated with him and force him out of his home. Daryl couldn’t go back to living on the streets. He had been denying it for so long but he knew he had been dying out there, slowly but surely, fading away. Rick had walked into his life at the moment when he had needed it – when he had needed him, a hero - and to suddenly lose that would be devastating, Daryl could admit now that if that happened he wouldn’t be able to pick himself back up again. 

The only way he could think of to prove to Rick he wouldn’t regret what he was doing was to give him what he wanted – to give himself to him. And he had planned to, he would have let Rick take him last night, he would have forced his body go slack and his mind to drift and simply let Rick do whatever he wanted to his body – he was used to doing that, he had had a lot of practice. But Rick wasn’t like his father and the other men from his past, he was caring and compassionate and a gentleman, everything Daryl had always dreamed of. 

Now, lying next to the Deputy Sheriff as the sun steadily rose and the birds began to wake and sing, Daryl watched the rise and fall of Rick’s chest as he breathed. He was so gorgeous and Daryl knew at that moment that he had not only fallen for the man, but he was utterly and hopelessly in love with him. And he had almost ruined it. He had been such a fool last night. He wound spend this day and everyone after it trying to rebuild the bridge he was so worried he had burned.

Daryl dozed as dawn padded across the sky and awoke to Jessie sniffing loudly along the bottom of the closed bedroom door. Rolling over, he saw Rick was still fast asleep and he carefully get out of bed and tiptoed across to the door. He opened it and slipped out; nudging Jessie back with his foot so she didn’t rush passed him inside. Heading downstairs, Jessie hot on his heels, he made for the kitchen. 

Switching on the kettle, Daryl let Jessie out into the back garden before he searched through the cupboards until he found the mugs. As he got the milk out from the fridge he noticed for the first time the photos held in place by magnets. One was of Rick and Shane, both fresh faced and grinning broadly, standing in front of their police patrol car on what Daryl assumed was their first day as fully-fledged cops. The second was of a new born baby sleeping soundly and next to it was a third, this time of fishing Rick by a lake with a young boy sitting next to him. A family - a real family - Rick had that and Daryl longed to have the same.

Making two cups of coffee, Daryl carried them upstairs, careful not to spill a drop on the carpet. He paused outside Rick’s bedroom door, wondering if he should knock but quickly told himself he was being stupid, he had spent the night in Rick’s bed after all. 

Opening the door with his elbow and pushing it open with his foot, Daryl slipped inside, closing the door after him with his hip. Rick steered at the noise and lifted his head off the pillow. His hair was the curliest Daryl had seen it and his bleary blue eyes brightened at the sight of coffee.

“Smells good,” he mumbled, his voice rough and sexy with sleep.

“I...I’d thought I’d surprise you,” Daryl said, feeling slightly silly.

“It’s a lovely surprise,” Rick smiled, sitting up in bed and moving over. He lifted up the duvet as an invitation for Daryl to join him once more. 

Daryl walked to the bed and handed Rick his mug before setting his down on the bedside table. Swallowing the last embers of uncertainty, Daryl slipped back onto the mattress and Rick laid the duvet over his legs. Settling back against the pillows and headboard, Daryl was surprised as Rick snuggled in to his side and rested his head on his shoulder.

“This ok?” Rick asked, tilted his head so he could see Daryl’s face.

“Yes,” he said, meaning it. 

Rick smiled and Daryl plucked up the courage to lean down and press a chaste kiss to the man’s lips. Humming in contentment, Rick kissed him back sweetly for a moment before he pulled back and took a sip of his hot coffee. He let out a sigh and slipped an arm over Daryl’s middle, murmuring, “I could get used to mornings like this.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Daryl’s lips and he nodded, “Yeah, Rick, me too.”

They fell into comfortable silence, drinking their coffees and watching the morning sunlight creep slowly across the rug as the sun rose higher. It was the best morning of Daryl’s life...so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Also, thank you all for your continued support and lovely comments, they mean the world to me! I'm kind of just writing this story as it comes to me so if there's anything you particularly would like to see, or characters, then please let me know in the comments :) Till next time...


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :) one quick thing, in a earlier chapter I said that Daryl's mother died when he was five, but I'm changing his age to twelve for plot reasons later on in the story (this is what happens when I don't plan my work lol). 
> 
> Let_Them_Burn asked for a Michonne flashback cameo and I provide ;) if you have anything particular you want to see then don't hesitate to ask!
> 
> Enjoy!

Rick had to go to work the next day, leaving Daryl alone – apart from Jessie – in his house with the encourage for him to just relax. Daryl had no idea what to do, he tried to sit and watch TV as Rick suggested, but found the programmes too loud or the presenters too cheerful, so gave up on that after about an hour. He mooched around the house, Jessie following him with an expectant look on her face. He imagined what he was feeling must be similar to that of a caged animal, anxious and frustrated, but unlike an animal he was free to leave if he pleased. But he didn't want to, nothing could make him walkout on Rick now. He ventured outside into the back garden and occupied himself for a while chucking a ball up and down for Jessie. The dog was good company, Daryl knew he would have been climbing the walls if he didn't have her at least to distract him. He found his mind wandered to his past, a place he normally avoided going to at all cost. For some reason, however, he couldn't stop thinking about someone he hadn't thought of in years and of a time he longed to forget.

Daryl didn't remember much about the day his mother died. He remembered sitting on the curb after Merle had told him, his knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped round them tightly. Behind him from inside the rundown house he could hear his father and Merle shouting at each other, mixed with the occasional crash as one of them drew a bottle at the other. His eyes had stung fiercely with grief but no tears fell, the hole in his heart ached and bled misery through his bloodstream, making him bitter to the world. He hadn’t asked Merle how his mother had died, he didn't need to, he knew the truth even if the police had been fooled, he knew who was responsible and that it hadn't been an accident... What would happen next he had had no idea, without his mother and with Merle scheduled to depart on his first deployment with the army he was left completely at his father’s mercy. Daryl had never been more utterly and hopelessly alone, with no one to turn to and nowhere to go than he had on that day.

The clearest thing he remembered from that hot summer’s day was the comfort from the girl who lived on the next street over, and it was her Daryl found his mind drifting back to now. She had been younger than him but was taller and had a stubborn tightness to her shoulders that Daryl admired. His dad didn't like him talking to her, back then he hadn't understood why but he realised it was because she had been black. But to him she had been the only kid close to his age who didn't look at him like he was a time bomb, or a freak-show.

Michonne had sat next to him on the curb, folding her long legs beneath her and looked at him with worried seriousness far beyond her age. Daryl remembered what she had been wearing - faded blue jeans which had had ripped holes in the knees and a black tank top – but most of all he remembered the plastic action figure she had been carrying. He never saw her go anywhere without it. It was a samurai, dressed in the traditional robes and holding a long sword in its hands. Daryl had always thought it pretty cool but the other kids had teased her about it, saying girls shouldn't play with boy’s toys. 

“What's wrong?” Michonne had asked, “Your dad angry again?”

Daryl hadn't answered, just continued to scowl at the road. Michonne, used to his bad moods, hadn't pressed him. She sat silently next to him, fiddling with the samurai toy absentmindedly. 

Behind them had come a huge bang as Merle threw open the door and stormed over the wooden porch and down the steps. Daryl had been seized with fear at the sight of his big brother leaving but he had bitten his tongue and not called out to him. Merle had swung his leg over his motorbike which was parking in the driveway behind their dad’s old rusting pickup truck and kicked the engine into life. With a roar, he had reversed and sped off down the street without a backwards glance at Daryl sitting hunched on the curb.

His dad, drunk and furious, stood framed in the doorway watching his eldest son drive away. The moment the bike was out of sight around the distant corner, he had fixed his attention on Daryl.

“Get inside, boy!” He had bellowed, waving his bottle of beer in the air, spilling most of it down his already stained t-shirt.

Michonne had flinched at the man’s harsh shout and Daryl had scrambled to his feet, not wanting his father’s rage to turn on her as it normally did whenever he saw her.

“Daryl, wait,” Michonne had hissed, jumping to her feet and catching hold of his wrist, “take this.” He had been shocked as she pushed her samurai action figure into his hand. “He’ll help protect you.”

Twelve-year-old Daryl knew that a plastic toy could do nothing against his father but still he had accepted it, knowing how much it meant to Michonne. He had kept the samurai until he finally managed to escape that hellhole of a house six years later. Now, looking back, he regretted not finding it and taking it with him. But it wasn't like he planned the day he left, he was lucky he had managed to get out of there with the clothes on his back and the motorbike between his legs. He also wondered what had happened to Michonne, where she was now, what she was doing, if she was happily married with kids or not. He wondered if Rick could find her somehow, he was sure if he asked he would try. That knowledge warmed his insides and made the corner of his mouth twist in the hint of a smile. 

By midday Daryl was hungry so explored the kitchen for something to eat. The ability to simply open a cupboard and see so much food still dumbfounded him. After so long living on scraps he was spoilt for choice now and he ended up just opening a can of beef and vegetable soup. Feeling overwhelmed once more, Daryl ate the soup cold out of the can, unable to bring himself to heat it on the stove or in the microwave. He was thirsty afterwards so looked in the fridge and it was then he saw that Rick had forgotten his lunch. Rick had made his sandwiches last night and put them into a paper bag in the fridge and there they still sat. Shaking his head, Daryl felt guilty as he realised Rick had probably forgotten his lunch because he had been busy worrying about him that morning. He recalled Rick telling him he would be at the station all day - lots of paperwork to fill out or something. 

An idea sprung to Daryl’s mind and he took out the paper bag and closed the fridge door. Jessie sat down next to his feet and cocked her head to one side. 

“What do you think, girl?” Daryl asked the dog, “Should we take your dad his lunch.”

Jessie barked and sprang to her feet, wagging her bushy tail excitedly. The paper bag in-hand, Daryl walked to the hallway and stuffed his feet into one of the new pairs of shoes Rick had bought him then picked up Jessie’s lead from where it hung on a coat hook. He remembered dimly where the police station was back in town. He hoped Jessie would be able to guide him there safely, it may be foolish of him to think that, but the truth was he didn't want to head out alone. 

Rick had left a spare key in the lock of the door which Daryl took out before clipping the lead to Jessie’s collar. Opening the front door, Daryl took a deep, calming breath then stepped outside over the threshold. He closed and locked the door behind him, safely pocketing the key. Jessie panted excited, tongue lolling from her large jaws. 

“Come on, girl,” Daryl murmured, heading down the driveway, “we can do this.”

*****

Groaning, Rick sat back heavily in his desk chair and rubbed his eyes. For three hours straight he had been staring at his computer screen filling in forms and he was bored out of his brain. One thing they neglected to tell you about becoming a police officer was just how much paperwork there was involved.

Rick glanced at his watch and saw it was almost 1pm and his stomach growled hungrily. Yet again his mind slipped to Daryl and he considered picking up the phone sitting on his desk to call him but he stopped himself. He didn't want to stifle the man; he expected Daryl was enjoying having a day to himself. It was strange, though he had only known Daryl a few days, being away from him today was like a knife to the heart. He missed him with every fibre of his being. He wanted to protect Daryl, wrap him in his arms and fight off all the demons that haunted his past. 

At the thought of Daryl's past, an idea surfaced in Rick’s mind. Daryl had mentioned that his brother Merle was in prison, if that was the case than a record of his arrest should be in the database. Bringing up the search engine, Rick hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Was it right of him to look into Daryl’s past without his permission? He wanted to help him and how could he do that if he didn't know what had happened? The back of his neck prickled as if he was being watched and he glanced over his shoulder, but there was no one there. Telling himself he was doing it to help Daryl, Rick quickly typed in ‘Merle Dixon’ and hit ‘Enter’.

The page loaded and suddenly a mugshot of a hard-looking man with deep-set eyes, a square jaw and receding hair stared glowered at him. He didn't look anything like Daryl and Rick felt an uneasy hitch in his stomach. He recognised Merle’s type, he spent most of his time putting them away, it wasn't a surprise to him he was in prison.

Quickly, as if he was worried he'd be caught, Rick scanned what the database said about Merle Dixon. He was surprised to read that Merle had been in the army, enlisting at the age of eighteen and being medically discharged seven years later after an explosion cost him his right hand. His criminal record was a colourful patchwork of petty and more serious crimes, various arrests, court punishments, and imprisonments. It appeared that Merle had a drugs problem (crystal meth to be precise), a bad tempter to go with it (if the number of minor assault charges were anything to go by), and a love for fast bikes (he had received multiple fines over the years for speeding). Currently, Merle was in prison just as Daryl had said. Rick clicked on the case file and read Merle had been convicted of first degree arson ten years ago at the age of thirty-eight and was currently serving a sentence of ten-twenty years (with the possibility of parole on the grounds of good behaviour). 

Rick was just beginning to read deeper into the circumstances of the conviction when the phone on his desk rang, making him jump. He hastily exited the window on his computer and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“There's someone to see you out here, Rick,” Maggie informed him in a singsong voice.

Frowning, Rick glanced at the calendar on his desk next to the framed photo of Carl holding a nearly born baby Judith and said, “I'm not expecting anyone.”

“Just come out here will ya,” Maggie laughed then hung up. Rick stared at the phone in his hand for a second before sighing heavily and pushing back his chair and standing up. He stretched, his back stiff from sitting hunched over his desk for the last few hours then headed towards the front of the station.

The first thing he saw when he pushed open the door was Maggie fussing over a very excitable Jessie and a sheepish Daryl hovering next to the reception desk. The unexpected sight of Daryl standing there snatched the breath from Rick’s lungs and he faltered in the doorway. Hearing the door open, Daryl looked up and the moment their eyes met Rick felt warmth flood over him and a stupid smile spread across his lips on its own accord. 

“Hey,” he greeted, his feet carrying him over to Daryl, his hands itching to touch him. 

“Hi,” Daryl replied, glancing quickly at Maggie then back to Rick, “I'm sorry to turn up out of the blue like this…”

“No, it's great,” Rick assured him, his stomach fluttering, “it's a lovely surprise. Is everything ok?”

“Yes,” Daryl said quickly - a little too quickly - making Rick suspect he wasn't telling him the whole truth. “I saw that you forgot your lunch so I…” Daryl trailed off, embarrassed, blushing.

Rick noticed the familiar paper bag sitting on Maggie’s desk and realised Daryl was right, he had totally forgotten about it that morning, his mind had been filled with other, more important things – namely Daryl. 

“That's really sweet of you, Daryl,” Maggie chipped in, flashing the awkward man a warm smile, ruffling Jessie’s scruff.

“I hope you don't mind that I brought Jessie,” Daryl added to Rick, slightly worriedly, “She helps me – I feel better having her with me.”

Compassion swelled Rick’s heart and he couldn't help but reach out and touch Daryl’s chin. He gently lifted the man’s face up and said tenderly, “I'm glad she helps you feel comfortable. Thank you, Daryl, for bringing me my lunch.” 

Daryl blushed even harder and Rick just had to lean in and kiss him, hoping to taste some of his sweet innocence he found himself wanting to both protect and steal away. Maggie watched them with a pleased, secret smile on her face. 

Relaxing under Rick’s warm kiss, Daryl drew on his slowly returning confidence and leaned into the other man. He returned the kiss softly and laid his hands flat on Rick’s chest, feeling the man’s lean muscles beneath his shirt. He wondered briefly what Merle would say if he could see him now, kissing a cop (dressed in full uniform) in broad daylight in the middle of a police station.

Pulling back, Rick stroked Daryl’s cheek, feeling the heat of his flush on his skin. 

“I missed you,” he murmured, meaning it. Daryl smiled and nodded in agreement.

“You guys are adorable,” Maggie giggled, “wait till I tell Beth, she hasn’t shut up about you two since you came into her salon!”

Rick laughed at the look of panic on Daryl’s face but he couldn't shake off the unease about what he had read about his brother. A dark shadow hung over Daryl’s past, a shadow Rick longed to shine light upon but, unknown to him, were the monsters that lurked there, the monsters that were capable of destroying the man he was trying honestly to protect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daryl bring Rick lunch at work <3
> 
> A special shout-out to Skarlatha who has written an amazing Rickyl fic called 'Shadows Where I stand', I thoroughly recommend you go and check it out if you haven't been reading it!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. We're slowly learning more about Daryl's past, more will be revealed as the story progresses. As always I look forward to hearing what you thought in the comments! Thank you for reading.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it's been a little longer than usual, I was stuck on ideas for this chapter until yesterday when inspiration struck! 
> 
> Strap yourselves in, this one is gonna be a bumpy ride, angst ahead!
> 
> WARNING: Non-con elements in this chapter, reference to rape, nothing too graphic but it's there so you have been warning.
> 
> (Sorry for any mistakes)

Daryl was dreaming. He knew that because he was afraid, terrified, he had never known fear such as he had when he relived his past as he slept. It consumed him, paralyzed him, every one of his bones locked into place and the muscles around them froze solid. He was cowering in the corner of his childhood bedroom, the cold metal frame of his bed digging into his back. Through the closed door he could hear the filthy laughter and jeers of his father and friends drifting up the stairs from the living room. Soon his father would come staggering upstairs, so drunk he could barely stand, kick open the door and drag him downstairs. Daryl would fight, he would bite and claw and kick, he would scream and curse but never beg - he wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. His body had hardly healed from the other night, his skin was still raw and the bruises ripe, the searing pain would be fresh again tomorrow once he awoke on the floor the next morning, abandoned and used... 

His father’s heavy, drunken stomps were drawing reached his ears, the wooden floorboards groaning under his weight. Daryl tasted bile, bitter and foul, at the back of his throat and he tried to shrink back further, praying the wall would swallow him up. He wrapped his thin arms around his drawn-up legs and buried his face against his knees. In his fist he clenched the plastic samurai, the pointed tips digging deep into his palm. 

There was a loud crash and his bedroom door slammed open violently, swinging wide on its hinges and bouncing off the wall. Daryl cried out, tightening his arms around him, fighting against the burning tears searing his eyes. He wouldn't cry!

With an iron-grip, his father seized hold of his arms which looked like twigs in his huge, meaty hands, so easy to snap. Daryl tried to pull away but he was powerless against the man’s brute strength. His mind flew to Merle, a small glimmer of hope rushing through him, would his brother intervene – save him? No, because Merle wasn't here, his brother seemed to always know when his father’s friends were coming over and made sure he was out of the house. Daryl didn't know if Merle knew what happened here the nights he was away. He had never told him, and it's not like his father admit it. He didn't want his brother to know, he didn't want him to look at him with the mixture of disgust and pity he knew would mask his face…

His father dragged him across the floor and he fought wildly, kicking and shouting. Daryl flinched in revulsion as his father yanked him up and his hot stinking breath puffed into his face. He squirmed against the hands holding his arms, the grip too tight, his bones being like they were grinding together.

The dream jumped forwards and suddenly Daryl was downstairs, his clothes being ribbed off his young body and rough, greedy hands groping at his skin like fat spiders. He couldn’t see, someone had tied a blindfold over his eyes. The world flipped as he was shoved harshly over onto his front, pressed into the coarse carpet. He gritted his teeth against the burn of the carpet on his sensitive skin, his cheek stinging. Nails dug into his hips, wrenching his arse up, whilst another hand pushed down between his shoulder blades. Doubled-over, Daryl struggled with the last of his strength but the multiple pairs of hands upon him might as well been made of stone. Both his wrists were held fast over his head, his shoulders burning at the awkward angle. From all sides the men leaned in, the weight of them making it difficult to breathe, the feeling of their hard, sweaty bodies pressing in around him made his skin crawl with revulsion and the first tears began to slip down his cheeks.

Daryl awaited the inevitable assault, biting his tongue to keep from begging them to stop. The taste of blood, metallic and salty, caused his stomach to heave. He shuddered violently as he felt hot breath ghost over his intimate flesh. He braced himself –

Crash! The front door burst open and suddenly uniformed men brandishing guns swarmed into the small room.

“Police, get down! Everyone on the ground now!” 

The hands holding Daryl suddenly let go and he slumped against the carpet. Instinctively, he curled up tight in a ball, throwing his arms over his head to try and protect himself. 

Chaos had erupted all around him, people shouting, feet pounding and the crashes of furniture as the men tried to flee, but there was no where for them to go. The very floor seemed to shake with more yells of “Police! Down on the floor, hands behind your head!”

Suddenly all the noise and commotion stopped as if it had all been a recording and someone had just pressed the ‘stop’ button. Daryl sensed someone crouching down close to him and he recoiled, but the new pair of hands that touched him were soft and tentative, not rough and hungry.

“Hey,” a gentle voice washed over Daryl and he felt relief rush over him as if he had sunk into a hot bath, “hey, it’s alright. You’re safe now.”

Daryl recognised the voice, though he hadn't heard it yet, at least his younger-dream self hadn't. The comforting hands helped him to sit up then reached behind his head to untie the blindfold. The first thing he saw when the blindfold slipped off was the familiar uniform of a cop, the light from a knocked-over lamp glinting off the good badge, then he looked up and saw the most breathtaking pair of sky blue eyes. 

“You’re safe,” the cop repeated and Daryl stared blankly at him, so overwhelmed by the beautiful man he forgot how to speak. 

“My name’s Rick, I’m going to look after you now, Daryl, you can trust me.”

“H-how do you know my name?” Daryl stammered, something nagging at the back of his mind, urging him that he knew the man.

A frown creased the cop’s handsome face and Daryl almost reached out to smooth the line away with his thumb.

“Because you told me, Daryl,” Rick said seriously, “this isn’t real. You are dreaming. It’s time you woke up now.”

Daryl gasped, sitting bolt upright in bed, eyes wide and panting. Beside him Rick groaned and blearily lifted his head from the pillow, squinting at Daryl through the gloom of the dark room. It was the middle of the night, the only light the faint glow of street lamps along the bottom of the drawn curtains.

“What is it?” Rick asked, voice husky with sleep. 

Daryl closed his eyes and drew in huge gulps of air, forcing his heart to slow down.

“N-nothing, sorry, go back to sleep,” He hissed, wiping the back of his hand over his sweaty forehead as he lay down next to Rick, “It was just a dream.”

Rick scooted closer to him, slipping a comforting arm over his middle. Daryl relaxed and laid his hand on top of Rick’s where it rest on his side. It barely registered in his mind how just a few days ago he would have recoiled at such intimidate physical interaction. Rick had changed so much, his whole life, and he hoped his future.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Rick asked quietly, nuzzling his face into the side of Daryl’s neck, the rasp of his stumble making the other man shiver. 

“No. Sorry I woke you.”

Rick hugged him closer, tilting his head to press a kiss to Daryl’s jaw, mumbling sleepily, “It’s okay.”

Daryl was about to say something else but Rick began to snore softly against his shoulder. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he ran his fingers through Rick’s tousled dark hair. Slowly, he began to drift back off to sleep as well, feeling warm and safe in Rick’s arms. He slept the rest of the night without any more nightmares and by the morning it was as if the dream hadn't happened.

********************************************************************************** 

The next day Rick still felt guilty about looking into Daryl’s brother without asking his permission first. He acted normal but inside his stomach was twisting itself into painful knots. Before he had left the station yesterday he had asked Maggie to print off everything se could find on Merle Dixon – after Daryl had appeared with lunch he had resisted to resume his search in the afternoon – but now he regretted doing so. It wasn’t his business to pry into, he was well aware how hard Daryl found it to open up about his past and here he was looking into something Daryl had said he didn’t want to discuss. Being woken by Daryl in the middle of the night was proof to him that what he was doing was wrong, the man needed patient care, honesty, a trustworthy shoulder to lean on. Whatever had happened to Daryl in his past was his to share, or never tell if that was what he wanted. Rick realised that now. When he got to the station he would tell Maggie not to worry about the files on Merle.

The toaster popped up, snapping Rick from his thoughts and he plucked the hot toast from the machine and dropped the slices onto his plate. Crossing to the fridge he took out the butter and orange marmalade, almost dripping over Jessie as he turned around to find the dog standing directly behind him. He had woken up late and hadn’t had the time to take her out for her morning walk, now she was hounding him, eyes wide and worried. 

“I know, girl, I’m sorry,” he said, stroking her silky pointed ear. 

“Sorry about what?” Daryl asked, walking into the kitchen, hair bed-rumbled, over-sized t-shirt creased and sweat pants hanging low on his bony hips. 

Blinking hard, realising his mouth was slightly open, Rick answered, “I didn’t have time to take her out this morning. I need to get to work.”

Leaning against the worktop, Daryl said evenly, “I could take her out if you want.”

“Are you sure?” Rick was surprised but pleased to see Daryl’s confidence was growing so rapidly, “That would be great.”

Daryl shrugged his shoulders, “Sure. Will give me something to do, it helps if I keep myself busy.”

Smiling, Rick crossed to the kettle and asked, “You want a coffee?”

“Please,” Daryl replied, unfolding his arms and stepping to Rick’s side, “Um...sorry about last night, waking you up and everything, I understand if you don’t want me sharing your bed anymore.”

Rick turned sharply around, “What? No, of course I want you – I mean – I like you sharing my bed...We all have nightmares sometimes.”

Daryl looked at the floor awkwardly and Rick hastened to pour him a cup of coffee to break the uneasy tension. When he pushed the hot mug into the other man’s hands, Rick looked up at the clock on the wall.

“Shit,” he swore, “I need to hurry and get dressed, me and Shane our on patrol in half an hour.”

Nodding understandably, Daryl took a sip of his coffee, licking his lips.

Slightly distracted by the tantalizing sight of Daryl’s tongue darting out, Rick blurted,“Help yourself to whatever you want for breakfast,” before hurrying out of the kitchen.

Jogging upstairs, Rick headed into his bedroom, faltering for a second at the sight of the bed, both sides messy – clearly slept in by two people. Warmth pooled in his stomach and he contemplated returning to the kitchen and sweeping Daryl off his feet and kissing him until neither of them could breathe... But he was a cop, he had responsibilities to fulfil.

Crossing to the wardrobe, Rick opened the door and pulled out his uniform. He was in the middle of getting changed – naked apart from his boxers – when his phone rang downstairs. Groaning, Rick hitched up his trousers and buckled his belt as he called out loudly to Daryl, “Can you answer that please, Daryl?” 

There was a brief pause then Daryl’s voice drifted up the stairs, “Alright!” 

Rick pulled on a white t-shirt, tucking it into his trousers, followed by his shirt and tie. He hastily ran a comb through his bed-rumbled hair, rubbed his slightly stubbly jaw with a grimace – no time for a shave - then grabbed his uniform jacket, hat and gun before heading downstairs. 

The sound of Daryl talking on the phone reached his ears and his blood ran cold, shattering the pleasant morning as if he had taken a sledgehammer to it.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Maggie,” Daryl was saying, sounding confused, “I didn’t ask Rick to look into my brother…” He trailed off, seeming to sense Rick standing frozen in the doorway to the kitchen. Rick felt like he had just stepped off a cliff, his stomach flying up into his throat and his heart pounding so hard he feared it may burst. Daryl turned around slowly on the spot, the phone still held to his ear. His face was pale, eyes wide and disbelieving, filled with the pain of the betrayal Rick had hoped he would never discover.

“No,” he said weakly, “Yes, he’s just come in. Here.” He held the phone out to Rick who stepped forwards numbly and took it, hand trembling. 

“Hello,” Rick said into the phone, his voice sounding fake and hollow to his ears, his eyes never left Daryl’s face.

“Good morning, Rick,” Maggie answered him on the other line, completely obvious to the shitstorm she had just dropped him into, “I know you’re on patrol this morning so won’t be coming into the station till later so I thought I’d call and tell you I’ve been having trouble getting hold of a couple of the files you asked on Daryl’s brother so...” 

She kept talking but Rick was no longer listening. His eyes were locked with Daryl’s and he wanted to dissolve into the ground with shame. The pain written across Daryl’s face, his clenched fists and trembling shoulders were all thing he had never wanted to see, let alone cause. Rick had betrayed his trust and he hated himself for it.

“Rick? Are you still there?”

“Bye, Maggie,” he breathed, cutting off the line and lowering the phone from his ear slowly. Beginning in a quiet, careful tone as if he was approaching a snarling dog, Rick breathed, “Daryl, I’m so sorry, I can explain –“

“- How much?” Daryl interrupted, his voice shaking with rage.

Confused, Rick blinked, “What?”

“How much do you know?” Daryl demanding, taking a step towards Rick, “About...me?” 

“Nothing,” Rick said quickly, lifting his hand to take Daryl’s but the other man recoiled at the outstretched palm, “I read about your brother, Merle. Daryl, I – I swear, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to know more so...so I could help you.”

“You had no right!” Shouted Daryl, face flushed with outrage, “I said I didn’t want to talk about him, about any of it! I told you my past it’s...the nightmares they...”

“I know, Daryl,” Rick breathed, reaching out again and this time Daryl didn’t shrink away. He ghosted his fingertips over Daryl’s cheek, “I’m so, so sorry. You are right, I should never have done it, I will never do it again. I promise you, Daryl, please forgive me, I was such an idiot.”

Rick stepped into Daryl’s personal space, tilting the man’s chin up so he could look into his steely blue eyes. Without thinking he leaned down and kissed the other man, hoping to show him just how sorry he was. For a heartbeat Rick thought it had worked and he felt Daryl kiss him back, but the moment died almost instantly. Daryl tore his mouth away and Rick saw the blur of movement out of the corner of his eye but he had made no move to protect himself. The blow stung like fire but he deserved it, the shame of his actions was far worse.

Clutching his stinging jaw, Rick tried again weakly, “Daryl, please –“ Suddenly his phone buzzed in his hand and he broke off. Daryl fixed him with one last withering look before shoving him out of his personal space and pushing past him.

“Wait, Daryl!” Rick called, stumbling and turning to follow him out into the hallway.

“You’d better answer that,” Daryl growled, jerking his head at the phone that was still buzzing in Rick’s clenched fist.

As if on cue, the phone stopped ringing and the answer machine picked up, Shane’s voice followed the beep, “Rick, it’s me, there’s been reports of gunfire. We’re needed at the scene immediately.”

Looking from the phone to Daryl, Rick opened his mouth to speak but Daryl beat him to it, “Just go, Rick.” 

He knew he had to but that didn’t make it any easier. Grudgingly, he stomped back into the kitchen to retrieve his jacket, gun and car keys. Daryl stood in the hallway, eyes unfocused and body slack. Rick tried to catch his eye as he stuffed his feet into his shoes and pulled on his jacket but Daryl refused to look at him. 

Feeling sick, Rick asked slowly, fearing the answer, “Will you still be here when I get home tonight?”

Daryl turned his back on him, answering in a voice so quiet it was barely a whisper, “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry!
> 
> This chapter is probably the one I'm most happy thing so far...We're starting to get somewhere in the story now so things will be picking up from here!   
> I've been home for the past few weeks but have to return to university this weekend so be patient with me for the next upload, I know what's going to happen so the wait shouldn't be too bad :) 
> 
> (Hint of what you can expect from next time: Rick ends up in hospital and Daryl meets Lori, Carl and Judith! Also expect a cameo from Carol and a OC who some of you will recognise from my other Rickyl story 'A Twisted Tale' if you have read it). See you guys soon!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out being back at university actually encourages me to write! (Or rather I procrastinate from doing revision for my exams) Either way here we are, next chapter! Thanks for all your comments on the last one, I had a really good time writing this one, there's multiple cameo appearances in it which were fun for me to include (if any of you have reading my other Rickyl story 'A Twisted Tale' than you'll recognise a OC of mine). Anyways enough of me rambling, read on!
> 
> (Sorry for any mistakes)

After Rick had left that morning Daryl had stood in the hallway staring at the closed front door. He wasn’t sure how long he had stood there, rooted to the spot and unblinking. The pain of Rick’s betrayal strung like a poisoned barb, yet, if Daryl was being honest with himself, it wasn’t the fact that Rick had gone behind his back to learn about Merle that was causing him the pain, it was his fear of what Rick may have discovered about him. He was sure if Rick ever found out he would be so revolted that he would demand he leave, he was damaged goods, tainted with the hideous acts that had been inflicted upon. 

Daryl seriously considered leaving, of never setting foot in the house again, to never see Rick again, but he didn’t. Rick had said he had only read about Merle, which meant he was still clueless to the monsters that were buried deep in Daryl’s past. Perhaps there was hope yet, hope that Rick would never find out after all, that he would never look at Daryl as if he was broken and filthy. However, a tiny voice in the back of Daryl’s head did wonder if Rick would see him that way if he found out, just because that was the way Daryl saw himself didn’t mean it would be the way Rick did too, maybe? No, that couldn’t be true, the world was not that kind or understanding of a place. 

Eventually Daryl had dragged himself out of his spiral of thoughts. The walls of the house suddenly felt too close, his chest too tight, so he had put on his shoes in anticipation of stepping outside. Jessie had barked excited, circling Daryl’s legs, so he picked up her lead and clipped it on. 

Together they walked the streets of Rick’s neighbourhood, Daryl letting Jessie guide the way. After a little while they came to a large park. Letting Jessie off the lead, Daryl had followed her, his head down and hands shoved deep into his pockets. Reluctant to return to the house, Daryl had sat in the shadow of a tall oak tree, leaning his back against the rough bark. Jessie had trotted over and dropped a stick into his lap. For the rest of the morning and into the afternoon Daryl stayed under that tree, playing fetch with Jessie and watching the birds hopping around the branches above his head. As the sun began its slow descend in the sky, his stomach rumbled loudly and Daryl forced himself to get up and return to Rick’s house. 

The house was quiet and deserted when they got back. Rick was not there but Daryl hadn’t expected him to be, he shift didn’t end for another three hours he noted as he glanced at the clock on the wall. The phone on its stand in the kitchen was flashing, telling him there were missed calls. He didn’t listen to the messages - they weren’t his after all, they would be for Rick – so he kept himself busy by making a sandwich and retiring to the living room to watch some TV. 

He was just getting into an episode of Friends when there came a loud knock on the front door. Jessie jumped up from where she lay dozing on the floor and barked. Nerves crawled across Daryl’s spine like ants and he switched off the TV, rising slowly to his feet. He stood still in the living room, listening intently, not sure why he felt so afraid. The knock came again and Jessie growled, darting out of the room to paw at the front door. Summoning up his courage, Daryl followed the dog and looked through the peep-hole. He let out his breath as he recognised Maggie and Glenn standing on the porch. Pushing Jessie back with his foot, he unlocked the door and opened it.

“Daryl, you’re here, we’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day!” Maggie cried the moment she saw him standing in the doorway.

Maggie looked unwell, her skin was pale and her eyes were red, as if she had been crying. Glenn didn’t look much better - he had a grave expression on his young face that made him look much older and his eyes dark. 

“Sorry,” Daryl said automatically, “I needed some space so I went for a walk.”

“Have you gotten any of my messages?” Maggie asked, her eyes darting nervously to Glenn. 

The unease returned to Daryl’s stomach, making his mouth go dry and he answered unevenly, “N-no, I didn’t think it was right for me to listen to Rick’s answering machine.”

Maggie’s eyes welled up with tears and Glenn put an arm around her shoulders, saying in a low voice, “Daryl, Rick’s in hospital – he was shot on duty earlier today.”

The world opened up beneath Daryl and he felt like he was falling.

“H-he’s alive though?” His voice sounded far away, as if it was detached from his body.

“Yes,” Glenn nodded.

“Shane called us from the hospital,” Maggie added quickly, “Says Rick has been asking for you the moment he was conscious, apparently he’s been more worried about you than he has himself.”

Guilt punched Daryl in the stomach and he avoided meeting Maggie’s eyes as he mumbled, “W-we had an argument this morning before he left for work.”

“He wants to see you,” Maggie assured him, stepping forwards and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, “we were on the way to the hospital ourselves, you should come with us, from what Shane said I think Rick needs you.”

All his anger towards Rick for what he had done drained out of him at Maggie’s words and suddenly all Daryl wanted to do was hold Rick and tell him he was sorry for reacting as he had, that he understood why Rick had done it, that he knew he had only good intentions. 

“O-of course, let me just –“ He broke off, gesturing over his shoulder.

Glenn nodded, “We’ll be in the car.”

Closing the door, Daryl ran upstairs to change out of Rick’s hand-me-down clothes into a pair of the jeans brought for him and a less-threadbare t-shirt. He jogged back downstairs and called to Jess, pointing at her bed which she immediately laid down in. 

“Good girl,” he stroked her head, “I’ll make sure he’s ok. Be back later.” 

As if she understood, Jess thumped her tail once against the floor then laid her large head down between her paws and watched Daryl put on his shoes and pull on his worn leather jacket. It wasn’t cold outside but Daryl missed the security he drew from wearing the familiar piece of clothing. 

Locking the front door behind him, Daryl walked quickly down the drive and slipped into the backseat of the car. The drive to the hospital was tense, all of them anxious about what they would learn once they got there. Daryl found himself watching the two in the front, how Glenn would glance shyly sideways at Maggie who would pretend not to notice then do the exact same thing the moment Glenn turned back to the road. It was cute but infuriating at the same time, Daryl wanted to shake them both and tell them life was too short and love to rare and precious to skirt around. He guessed that kind of made him a hypocrite, but his and Rick’s situation was not the same as Glenn and Maggie’s, not by a long shot. Or perhaps it was, perhaps love was love at the end of the day and nothing, especially something that happened so many years ago, should affect that. 

When they got to the hospital the car park was packed and after driving round it twice in search of a space, Glenn let out an exasperated growl and pulled up right outside the front. He turned around in his seat and said to Daryl, “You go in ahead, we’ll join you the moment we find somewhere to park.” 

His palms sweaty with nerves, Daryl nodded and fumbled with his seatbelt then reached for the door handle and got out. As the car pulled away he looked up at the hospital with its many floors of wide glass windows, most of them lit by the sickly yellow-white artificial light unique to hospitals. A shudder ran down his spine. He hated hospitals, he hated the smell, the sounds, the pitying eyes of the nurses, the questions the doctors asked...

Daryl shook his head, he was being foolish, he wasn’t here for himself. Somewhere in there in one of the rooms Rick lay on a thin mattress with their crisp, light blue sheets and too-lumpy pillows. He needed him, Maggie had said so.

The doubled automatic doors hissed open as he stepped in front of them and he shuddered again as the smell of disinfectant wafted over him. Forcing himself to step inside, Daryl tried not to look at the packed waiting room, the various sick, injured, and healthy-but-paranoid people all hunkered down in the uncomfortable chairs that were pushed too close together. 

Nurses and doctors bustled passed him and Daryl quickly walked to the reception desk. A tired looking women with yellow-dyed blonde hair glanced from her computer screen up at him, her chipped red nails never pausing in their frantic fluttering across her keyboard. 

“Can I help you?” She asked.

“Y-yes, I’m looking for Rick Grimes,” Daryl said, the back of his throat itching with the unpleasant tang in the air, “I was told he was brought in earlier today. He’s a police officer –“

“- Excuse me,” a voice interrupted him and a middle-aged woman with short mousy brown hair and a kind, motherly face appeared by his elbow, “are you Mr Dixon?”

Shocked that she knew his name, Daryl just stared at her for a second, taking in that she was a nurse and that her name tag pinned to her scrubs read ‘Carol’.

“Y-yes,” he stammered, noticing the slight blemish across her cheek. The hairs down his arms stood on end, he knew that type of mark, she had attempted to hide it beneath layers of make-up but he could still see it, the type of bruise that only came from a fist. 

“Mr Grimes has been asking for you,” Carol said, holding out her arm in a gesture for him to accompany her, “come with me, I’ll take you to his room.”

Daryl followed wordlessly behind Carol, watching the way she put her right foot down more delicately than her left. He felt a wave of hatred towards the person who had hurt her. They took the elevator up two floors to the private rooms and Daryl looked around warily, his heart hammered against his ribs. Halfway down the corridor, Daryl spotted two men standing outside a room, its door firmly closed. Carol walked towards them and they turned as they approached. Daryl recognised Shane, still in his uniform, his shirt stained with blood and face grey. The other man was a doctor, his long white coat swinging around his knees as he turned to look at Daryl. He was handsome, his shoulders broad and short hair light-brown, there was a pen tucked behind his ear and he held a clipboard.

“Daryl,” Shane began the moment he was within earshot but he quickly stopped and awkwardly glanced over his shoulder at the closed door.

“Is Rick alright?” Daryl demanded, suddenly desperate to see him, “what happened?”

Before Shane could answer the doctor spoke casually, “So, this is the famous Daryl Dixon. My patient has been worrying himself stupid over you, Mr Dixon, perhaps now you’re here he will finally listen to me and get some rest.”

Blushing, Daryl uneasily glanced at Shane, his eyes focusing on the red blood down his shirt – Rick’s blood.

“My name’s Michael,” the doctor said, putting his clipboard under his arm and holding his hand out to Daryl who shook it clumsily, “Mr Grimes suffered a bullet to the shoulder, internal muscles and tissue damage, but nothing seriously. The bullet was lodged inside so we had to operate earlier today to remove it. The operation went smoothly and he’s stable. He won’t be playing cop for a few weeks till his wound heals but he should make a full recovery as long as he doesn’t overdo it too soon.”

Nodding, Daryl said weakly, “Can I see him?”

“Of course,” Michael smiled.

“Daryl, hold up,” Shane stopped him as he reached for the handle, “Lori and the kids are in there at the moment.”

Freezing, Daryl bit his bottom lip hard. He had wanted to meet Rick’s kids since the moment he learned about them, but he hadn’t imagined the moment like this, especially not with Rick’s ex-wife hovering over them like a hawk. 

“I ask for them to give you a moment alone with Rick,” Shane proposed.

“I...can’t ask you to do that,” Daryl said, feeling his cheeks burn, self-doubt rising like a snake inside of him, “they are his family...I’ve only known him a few days. I shouldn’t be here, I’m sorry, it was stupid, I’ll leave –“

He turned to flee but Shane caught his arm in his large hand. A memory flashed through Daryl’s mind, strong large hands gripping his arms and pinning them above his head, hot breath ghosting over his face, a leering smile, the flash of white teeth –

“Don’t be dumb, Daryl,” Shane insisted, letting go of his arm, snapping Daryl from his past, “Rick wants you in there. Give me a minute.” He turned around and opened the door. Daryl caught a glimpse of a woman with long, thick dark hair sitting with her back to the door, a young girl perched on her lap, and a teenage boy standing by the bed with a slightly pale, but very much alive and conscious Rick sitting up in it.

Rick’s eyes darted from the face of his son to the door as it opened and his face broke into the most wonderful smile as he saw Daryl through the narrow gap. Before Daryl could return the smile, Shane slipped between them and shut the door behind him. Staring at the door, Daryl felt himself deflate, his shoulders sagging and the knots in his stomach loosening. Rick was alright, he was alive. 

“Is that true?” Carol asked softly from behind him.

Daryl turned, frowning, “What?”

“That you’ve only know Mr Grimes for a few days?”

Looking at his feet awkwardly, Daryl nodded, “Why do you ask?” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Michael watching him with interest. Normally such a thing would irritate him or fill him with fear, but there was something trustworthy about the man, the calmness in his green eyes, the steadiness of his gaze, the straightness of his shoulders...all of those things told Daryl he could trust the doctor, that he – like Rick – was a good man.

“It’s just the way he was asking for you...” Carol said carefully, her eyes kind, “it was obvious how much you mean to him, how much he lov-“ She broke off sharply, looking embarrassed, “Sorry, what I mean is, I just would have guessed that you two had been together for a long time, that’s all.”

Warmth spread through Daryl and he felt the corners of his lips tug upwards on their own accord. Michael and Carol exchanged knowing looks.

The door clicked open again and Shane came out, followed by the woman, who held the little girl in her arms, and the boy. Daryl had seen their photos on the fridge but somehow they both looked so different in real life. Carl looked less like his dad in person and more like his mum, the same thick dark hair and smooth skin. Judith had Rick’s curly hair and his blue eyes which were so large now with questions as they locked with Daryl’s.

Lori surveyed him with an uptight expression, eyes suspicious and narrowed, “So, this is him?”

Daryl wondered just how many more people were going to say that to him today.

“Lori,” Shane warned in a steady voice, his thick arm snaking out to slip around her waist, “Rick asked for him.”

Shooting Shane a look, Lori snapped, “I know that, Shane, I just don’t understand why-“

“-Because Daryl is special to Rick.”

Daryl was surprised that Shane was defending him and he found himself rethinking his first opinions on the man.

“But –“ Lori began again stubbornly but she was interrupted by Carl who blurted, “Dad said you used to live on the streets?”

Taken aback, Daryl stammered, “Y-yeah, that’s right.”

“Cool! You must know every inch of the city! Did you ever –“

“- Enough, Carl!” Lori scolded, her eyes dangerous like a cats.

“It must have been scary,” Judith whispered, her young voice so sweet Daryl felt something inside of him melt. The little girl stared at him, her wide blue eyes inquisitive and hand holding tight to the necklace Lori wore.

“It was,” Daryl agreed, smiling softly at the little girl, “you make sure you stay on the right path, sweetheart, you don’t want to end up out there.”

“No daughter of mine will ever end up on the streets!” Lori blanched. 

Daryl flinched, opening his mouth to quickly double-back and apologise but Rick’s voice reached them through the open door first, “Lori, leave, please!”

Eyes flashing, Lori tightened her arms around Judith as if she expected Daryl to reach out and try to take her. Shane ushered Lori away, grumbling an apology as they went. Carl followed slowly behind them, looking back at Daryl as he went.

“We’ll let the two of you talk alone,” Michael said. Daryl nodded in thanks and waited until the doctor and Carol were a few feet away before stepping over the threshold of Rick’s private room and pulling the door shut behind him.

“Hey,” Rick whispered, his voice hoarse, but his smile was filled with life, “I’m glad you came. I was worried that you wouldn’t...”

“I’m sorry, Rick,” Daryl said, striding to his bedside and sinking into the chair Lori had vacated next to it, “About what I said, what I did – hitting you like that –“

“- No, don’t be sorry,” Rick cut him off, wincing as he sat up straighter, “I deserved it. I overstepped a line, I should have respected your privacy, Daryl.”

Taking the other man’s hand, Daryl ran a worried eye over his heavily bandaged shoulder and the arm strapped securely across his chest in a cling. 

“Are you in pain?” He asked, stroking the back of Rick’s hands with his thumb.

“No,” Rick said smiling, inclining his head towards the IV and other thin tubes inserted into the back of his other hand, “there’s so much morphine running through my veins right now I can’t feel a thing.” 

Snorting in amusement, Daryl half rose from his chair to lean over Rick quickly before he lost his nerve and pressed their mouths together. Rick groaned against his lips, his bandaged hand lifting to cradle the side of Daryl’s face, angling his head slightly so their mouth slotted together perfectly. The kiss was chaste but passionate, their lips moulding together and both inhaling through their noses to prolong the moment. When they finally did break apart Daryl didn’t sit straight back down. He ran his hand through Rick’s messy curls and kissed his left cheek, carefully of the shallow cut that he found there. Exhaling, Daryl rested his forehead against Rick’s and closed his eyes, basking in the relief that he hadn’t lost him. 

“Are you alright?” Rick asked him gently, the words ghosting over Daryl’s lips their faces were so close.

Opening his eyes, Daryl looked into Rick’s crystal blue ones and saw everything he had ever and could ever want staring back at him. 

“I am now,” he said, tilting his head slightly to kiss Rick again, “When I found out - I was so afraid - I can’t lose you, Rick, you’re all I have.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rick smiled, thumb stroking Daryl’s cheek, “I promise.”

With a sigh, Daryl settled back in the chair, returning his hand to Rick’s and entwining their fingers.

“I had the strangest dream whilst I was out,” Rick said with a bemused look on his face.

“Oh yeah?” Daryl chucked, lifting their joined hands and kissing Rick’s.

“Yeah, the world had ended and I was in charge of a group of survivors but there were these zombies – only they weren’t called that, they were called walkers – and you were there and...” Rick paused, laughing to himself.

“What?” Daryl prompted, smiling too, loving the sound of Rick’s carefree-morphine laugh.

“When we first met you threw a bunch of dead squirrels at me.”

Daryl couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing and Rick followed suit. Though he wasn’t the one dosed up on morphine, Daryl felt the lightest he had in years and leaned forwards once more to kiss Rick again simply because he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you enjoyed this chapter! Don't worry, it isn't the last you'll see of Carol and definitely not that last of Carl and Judith. I'm still playing around with ideas for the next chapter but I think Beth will be making a appearance again :) Thank you for reading. See you again soon.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So this chapter went a completely different direction to what I had planned so no Beth cameo (sorry) but next time I promise. It felt about time we had some significant Rick/Daryl progression so here we go! Enjoy!

It was a relief to be home, Rick thought as Daryl held the front door open for him. He flashed the man a smile in thanks as he stepped over the threshold. Jessie came bounding towards him, barking excitably and Rick almost forgot about the hole in his shoulder as he crouched down to greet the jubilant dog. His arm was still in a sling and he had to return to the hospital in a few days for a check-up but they had only kept him in one night, which he was grateful for. The longer he spent in the hospital the more he found his mind wondering back to the dream he had had whilst he had been under for the operation. It had been so vivid, the events so complex, and the emotions so raw that if he didn’t know better he would have said it had all been real. But that was ridiculous - people didn’t come back to life as mindless, flesh-eating monsters. 

Rick was even more relieved that Daryl had forgiven him about looking into his brother, he remembered hearing somewhere that there was nothing like a crisis to set things in perspective – not that he considered getting shot a crisis, it was part of his job - but he couldn’t help but be slightly grateful to the man who had pulled the trigger. If it meant Daryl forgiving him and not leaving than he would gladly suffer a hundred gunshots wounds.

In the kitchen, Rick switched on the coffee machine, desperate for a proper cup, not the awful excuse for it they served at the hospital. Daryl hovered a few feet away, biting his bottom lip. Rick watched him for a second, a fond smile curling the corner of his mouth. There was something different about Daryl since he had picked him up from the hospital, the normal tension in his shoulders was looser and his eyes – though still careful – no longer glanced about nervously but instead were steady and filled with concern. It hit Rick that it was concern for him, Daryl was no longer anxious about his surroundings because all his focus was taken up worry about him. 

“It’s alright, Daryl,” he assured him, holding out his good arm, “Come here.”

Daryl came and Rick wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pressing his nose into the man’s hair and breathing in – Daryl smelt of his shampoo. Leaning into the other’s side, careful not to jostle his arm in the cling, Daryl nuzzled his face into the side of Rick’s neck and exhaled. 

“I’m fine,” Rick murmured, rubbing Daryl’s bicep and suppressing a shiver at the ghost of Daryl’s breath across his skin.

“I know,” Daryl said in a tiny voice, sounding much younger than he was, “It’s just...you almost...I almost –“

“-Hey,” Rick interrupted him, hooking his finger under Daryl’s chin and lifted his head to stare seriously into his blue eyes, “Don’t think like that, okay? I’m fine, you heard the doctor I’ll make a full recovery. You’re not going to loss me, Daryl, I promise.”

Daryl didn’t look convinced so Rick leaned down and kissed him gently. To his surprise Daryl immediately deepened the kiss, lifting both his hands and slipping his fingers into his hair, tugging urgently. A delicious shudder ran down Rick’s spine as he felt Daryl’s tongue flick out across his lips which he opened at once to meet him. 

Unable to help himself, Rick groaned into the other man’s mouth as he tightened his good arm around his skinny waist. Daryl whimpered but not in a frightened way that told Rick to stop. The grip on his hair tightened and teeth scrapped across Rick’s bottom lip. He jumped at the unexpected assault, heat pool thick and heavy low in his stomach. He spread his hand across Daryl’s hip and he turned them around in one swift, strong movement so Daryl was pinned against the worktop. 

Rick’s lungs were burning for oxygen but he knew if he broke the kiss than the moment would be lost and Daryl would shy away. He had been dreaming of kissing the other man like this since the moment he had first seen him and now he was finally getting a taste. One of Daryl’s hands left his hair, slipping down his back to hesitate at the hem of his t-shirt. Rick gave Daryl’s tongue an encouraging flick with his own and he felt the long-fingers slip beneath his t-shirt, nails grazing his skin. Suddenly impatient, Rick tried to free his other arm from the infuriating sling but shooting pain flashed through his nerves at the movement, his wounded shoulder coming ablaze once more. 

Gasping in pain, Rick accidently broke the kiss and Daryl froze against him. He watched first confusion then shock then fear pass across the man’s face and Rick felt guilt stab him in the stomach. 

“Daryl, I –“ He began but was cut short. 

“- I’m sorry,” Daryl blurted, blushing crimson and looking down. 

Stunned, Rick lifting his good arm and cupped Daryl’s cheek, “Don’t apologise, never apologise for kissing me, Daryl, ever.” 

Rick didn’t think it possible but Daryl blushed harder and he smiled, tracing his thumb over Daryl’s kiss-swollen lips. 

“It’s a good look on you,” he murmured huskily, leaning back in. 

“Rick, wait...” Daryl breathed as he twisting his face away, putting his hands plat on his chest, “I...we shouldn’t.” 

Trying not to let his disappointment show on his face, Rick pulled back and asked, “Why not?” 

Daryl hesitated, eyes darting up and down Rick’s face from his mouth to his eyes, “B-because of your shoulder. The doctor said you had to restrain from any strenuous activity.” 

Rick knew that wasn’t the real reason but he let it go, knowing how well Daryl had just done to let their kiss grow so passionate, it had been the first time there was any hint that he was willing to go further. 

“You’re right,” Rick said, stroking Daryl’s cheek softly, “No strenuous activity, got ya.” 

*********

Daryl could still feel the pressure of Rick’s lips against his long after their heated kiss in the kitchen had ended. There was a part of him that was overjoyed he had managed to kiss Rick like that for as long as he had before the fear seized hold of him, yet he was also angry at himself. He wanted to feel Rick’s hands on his body, feeling the heat of his skin and the pounding of his heart, but if mere kissing brought the memories surging back than how was he ever going to be with Rick like that? The physical scars on his body he could bear, it was the unseen damage within that was still holding him back so many years later. But honestly was the best policy, isn’t that what people said? 

Daryl glanced from the TV over to Rick where he sat on the other end of the sofa reading. He had never seen anyone so beautiful. Daryl took in the straight line of Rick’s jaw, darker than usual with twenty-four hour stubble. It was good look on him, he thought to himself. 

Daryl didn’t want to hide his past from Rick, he was just so afraid telling him would ruin everything, yet he was beginning to believe they couldn’t carry on like this either. It wasn’t right, Rick deserved to know. Daryl could feel his demons clawing away at his insides, gnawing on his bones, snarling in his ears, becoming more unbearable with every passing day. They were taunting him, believing him to weak to ever let them free. 

“Be brave,” his mother’s voice filled his head as he remembered how she wrapped him in her arms and kissed his hair as the heavy footsteps of his father came up the stairs towards them. “Be brave, sweetheart, be brave.”

Daryl took a deep shaky breath, speaking before he could stop himself, “Rick, ask me.”

The Deputy Sheriff looked up from his book, confusion creasing his forehead, “Ask you what, Daryl?”

“Anything,” he blurted, snatching the remote off the arm of the sofa and switching off the TV, “anything you want about...about my past.”

Rick’s eyes widened in surprise and he closed his book and put it on the coffee table. He turned his body towards Daryl on the sofa, wincing slightly as the movement jarred his shoulder. 

“I thought you didn’t want –“

“- I know what I said,” Daryl interrupted him, worrying his bottom lip in frustration, “But I...you should know.”

“Not if it causes you such distress, Daryl,” Rick leaned towards him and put his good hand on his knee, “You don’t have to tell me, not until you are ready.”

Daryl looked down at Rick’s hand on his knee, his knuckles were scrapped from where he had fallen when he’d been shot. 

“Please,” he whispered, raising his eyes again, “Ask me.”

“Alright...” Rick said slowly, his grip on Daryl’s knee tightening, “Your brother, Merle, he’s in prison for first degree arson?”

Daryl tried not to show his relief that Rick’s question wasn’t about him directly, “Yes, he burned down our family home.”

“Why did he do it?”

“It was an accident. H-he was very drunk.” The second half wasn’t exactly a lie but Daryl still felt the bitter taste of one at the back of his throat.

“But, the thing is, for it to be a first degree case the fire needed to cause death,” Rick removed his hand from Daryl’s knee, “I didn’t read any further on the case, but I’m guessing forensics found a body for it to be a first degree case, so...”

“Who was killed in the fire?” Daryl finished Rick’s unasked question, his stomach twisting painfully into a knot. He looked down at his lap and balled his hands into fists, his nails digging painfully into his palms. “The body...it was my father’s.” The truth tasted bittersweet. 

“You said Merle was drunk,” Rick murmured, his hand returning to lie upon Daryl’s clenched fist, “Did your brother know your father was in the house when he set it on fire?”

Daryl didn’t answer for a moment, staring blankly at the black screen of the TV.

“He...was angry.”

He heard Rick suck in a sharp breath and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see the look on Rick’s face. He had been such an idiot, Rick was a cop, he could never understand. He should never have told him.

“Your father,” Rick breathed, his voice taking on its dangerous, steady tone, “He used to hurt you, didn’t he? Force you to do things?”

Daryl swallowed hard, still not opening his eyes. Unable to say so aloud, he nodded stiffly. Rick let out a growl of anger and a shiver ran down Daryl’s spine.

“Was he the one who gave you the scars on your back? Was he the only one who -” Rick broke off sharply in rage.

“Y-yes...he used to let others -” Daryl stopped dead, the words becoming lodged in his throat, choking him. Rick slid across the sofa till he was pressed against his side, his good arm wrapping around his shoulders. Daryl trembled and turned his face into the other man’s neck, suppressing a sob. 

“I’m sorry, Daryl,” Rick whispered into his hair, his hand stroking down his back soothingly, “I won’t ask any more questions. I can’t imagine...You are so brave.” 

Daryl’s composure shattered and his breath escaped his lungs in a wracking sob. Tears flooded out of his eyes and he twisted around properly to latch on to Rick. 

“It’s a-alright,” Rick breathed, his voice hitching in pain as Daryl pressing against his bandaged shoulder but he made no move to push him away. 

“N-no,” Daryl sobbed, balling his fists into the fabric of Rick’s t-shirt, “I should never have -have told you. I’m broken, used goods, how can you bear to even touch me?” 

“Hey, listen to me,” Rick’s voice was loud as his hand came up to grasp Daryl’s face, forcing him to meet his eyes, “never, never say that. You are not ‘used goods’, nor are you broken. There is nothing wrong with you, Daryl. What happened to you when you were young it...it doesn’t define who you are now. You are perfect to me.” Rick’s grip on his chin loosened and his blazing eyes softened. “You are beautiful.” He stroked his thumb over Daryl’s lips.

Daryl couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Rick was...he had... Daryl was too shocked to think straight. He parted his lips beneath Rick’s thumb in shock and the other man took that as in invitation to lean in and kiss him. Instantly Daryl melted against him, whimpering into his mouth. He suddenly felt exhausted and all he wanted was to curl up against Rick and go to sleep but Rick’s mouth was still upon his so he returned the kiss with everything he had. He poured all his raw emotions into the kiss, all his relief, disbelief, his love... And Rick took it all, drinking him in as if he was water and he a man lost in the desert. 

Daryl half rose from the sofa and straddled Rick’s lap, desperate to be as close to him as humanly possible. Rick grunted as his shoulder was jostled but his good arm snaked around Daryl’s back and held him tight. Daryl slipped one hand around the back of Rick’s head, burying his fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. He pressed down against Rick, his lips searing with the pressure of their kiss. There was no lust sparking between them as there had been in the kitchen early, this was something far more intimate and meaningful. 

Rick slipped his hand beneath Daryl’s shirt, his nails scrapping over his scars and Daryl hissed, arching his back. Rick’s fingers felt red-hot, scorching him, melting the scars from his skin and replacing them with brands of his own. For the first time in his life the scars meant nothing. 

Fumbling, Daryl pushed up the bottom of Rick’s t-shirt without breaking the kiss. His fingers ran up smooth skin and lean muscles which jumped and danced beneath his touch, feeling like the wings of a trapped bird. Daryl pressed his palm flat against Rick’s chest, right over his beating heart. All he could hear was his blood pounding in his ears and he finally tore his lips from Rick’s. Rick slid his hand around his torso beneath his shirt till his palm found Daryl’s own heartbeat. Their eyes locked but neither of them spoke. 

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity until their heartbeats found a comfortable rhythm and they breathed as one. Slowly, so not to break the spell between them, Daryl leaned back in and brushed his lips over the other man’s and Rick kissed him back sweetly, though it was his unspoken words that truly tasted as sweet as honey to Daryl. 

The past did not matter. It did not change a thing between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel slightly nervous about this chapter! Please let me know what you think in the comments! It's about three weeks now till my university exams start and I aim to have this story finished before them (though at the moment that isn't looking very likely). See you guys soon, hopefully soon than last time! X


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been a while guys! Yeah...this fic definitely isn't gonna be finished by the time I start of exams so please be patient for the next update! As a reward I give you sexy times :P
> 
> (A special thanks to my beta for this chapter Murdork (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson). They have written lots of fics for various fandoms and they're really good to I suggests checking them out!)

The sunlight streamed through the open curtains into his bedroom and Rick groaned loudly, cursing himself for forgetting to shut them last night. His mind was a foggy marsh of sleep, leftover dreams, and distorted memories from yesterday. His shoulder felt like someone was slowly pressing a hot poker into his wound and he grimace. Sitting up was a challenged, pain shot down his arm as he pushed himself up and he gasped. Leaning back against the headboard, he massaged his bandaged shoulder. 

There was movement next to him in bed and Daryl rolled moved, rubbing sleep from his blue eyes with the back of his hand. The distorted memories from yesterday suddenly focused themselves in Rick’s mind. Daryl had faced his fears, told him the basics of the truth, then he had kissed him – really kissed him. Warmth blossomed across Rick’s chest and he smiled at Daryl as he propped himself up on one elbow. 

“Morning,” Rick said, reaching over with his good arm and brushing the hair back from Daryl’s face, his fingers lingering on the man’s jaw.

“Morning yourself,” Daryl mumbled, glaring at the open curtains before yawning largely.

Hesitating, unsure whether he should bring up what happened yesterday yet or not, Rick settled for comfortable silence. Daryl surveyed him for a minute, a strange, faraway look on his face. 

“How's the shoulder?” He asked as casually as he could.

“Hurts like a bitch,” Rick said honestly, chuckling as Daryl snorted.

There was another pause then Daryl asked slowly, “Did…did yesterday actually happen? Did I tell you?”

Ignore the protest from his shoulder, Rick shifted down the bed so he lay on his side facing Daryl. They were very close, their legs brushed beneath the tangle of sheets and Rick felt the brush of Daryl’s breath on his cheek.

“Yes, it happened,” he murmured, watching Daryl’s reaction carefully, “is that bad?”

Daryl sighed, flopping over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. 

“It's...no it's not bad,” he muttered, though his hand balled into a fist over the bed sheet.

Scouting closer, Rick laid his arm lightly on Daryl’s chest and turned his face to look at him.

“It's definitely not bad, Daryl, I'm so glad that you told me. I know it was hard for you and I get why you were so reluctant to tell me but it changes nothing, ok? It does not affected how I see you or feel about you.”

“I believe you,” Daryl said, covering Rick’s wrist with his hand. Smiling softly, Rick leaned in a kissed Daryl chastely. Immediately Daryl's hand moved up into his hair, playing with the curls, and Rick slipped his arm fully around the other man, holding their bodies tightly together. Getting the idea, Daryl rolled over so their torsos were flush against one another’s. 

They continued to kiss lazily, hands slowly exploring. Rick slipped his beneath the hem of Daryl’s too-large t-shirt, noting that it was his old one from the police academy, and stroked the raised scars he found there. Daryl stiffened against him but he didn't pull back, he needed to show to Daryl that he didn't care about them – about the past they carried. The hand in his hair tightened slightly and Rick hummed encouragingly against the other’s lips. 

Relaxing slightly, Daryl ran his other hand down the length of Rick’s body, from his shoulder blade to his hip. A delicious shiver chased across Rick’s skin in the wake of Daryl’s touch and dared to slip his hand lower, skimming his fingers just beneath the waistband of Daryl’s boxers. The other man gasped and broke the kiss, eyes wide and arousal obvious against Rick’s stomach. Realising what a big step that was for Daryl, Rick took a second to allow him to catch his breath – and push him away if he wanted. But Daryl didn't, his eyes were filled with such trust now that he leaned back in a kissed Rick hungrily. 

Rick splayed his hand over Daryl’s hip, the sharp bone fitting perfectly into his palm. Being either of them could lose their nerve; Rick dropped his hand to Daryl’s thigh and hitched his leg up over his own hip, at the same time fitting his leg in between Daryl’s thighs. Teeth caught at Rick’s lip and he pulled away from the kiss, gasping as he felt his hardness press against Daryl’s through the layers of their clothes. Daryl’s face was bright red and his eyes were wild, the first hint of fear in them.

“It's alright,” Rick assured him, forcing himself not to move his body as he so wanted to, “we can stop.”

Rick could see Daryl considered it for a second but was relieved when the man shook his head and stammered, “N-no.”

Wasting no time, Rick leaned back in and began to kiss down Daryl’s jaw, their morning stubble rasping. Both of Daryl’s hands snaked around his neck, holding on tightly as Rick began to slowly move his hips. He felt more than heard Daryl’s moan as he worshipped the skin of his neck, the wonderful sound vibrating beneath his lips. His grip on Daryl’s thigh loosened as he slipped his hand around to his arse, guiding Daryl in his unsure movement.

The position wasn't the best, it was a little awkward, but Rick made it work. His shoulder was screaming at him to slow down but he wouldn't have stopped even if another bullet pieced his flesh. His whole body was alive, the heat building, his dick fully hard grinding into Daryl’s clothes arse. He had been a teenager the last time he had dry humped but he knew Daryl wasn't ready for the next step - the layers of clothes acting as a security blanket. 

A growl rose in Rick’s throat as Daryl moaned loudly in his ear and the other man wracked his fingers down his back. Daryl’s hand was on his arse, urging him on, his nails digging into his skin in a teasing burn. 

The last of his resolve breaking, Rick flipped them over, pressing Daryl down into the mattress. His hands caught hold of Daryl’s inner thighs and he held his legs apart as he thrust down in between them. Their erections rubbed together and they both groaned. Daryl’s hands scrambled for purpose on Rick’s back for a second before one dropped back down to his arse and squeezed hard, the other flying up into his hair. His head pulled down, Rick took Daryl’s mouth and swept his tongue inside, moaning hotly as Daryl arched his hips upwards to meet his downwards thrusts. 

Daryl tore his mouth from Rick’s as his orgasm coursed through his body, his mouth open and lips glistening red and plump. The feeling of Daryl’s body twitching beneath him in his release and the sight of his flushed face pushed Rick over the edge. He held his hips down into Daryl’s as he came, gasping against the other’s neck. Daryl held on to him through it, his arms tight around his back, lips murmuring in his hair. 

By the time Rick finally came down from his high the sweat on both their bodies had cooled and their clothes stuck to them unpleasantly. Feeling the weakness in his boxers, Rick grimaced as he sat up and stared down at Daryl.

“That was-“

Daryl cut him off, sitting up to kiss him passionately. 

“Thank you,” Daryl breathed against Rick’s cheek as he pulled back, eyes bright with tears. 

Feeling slightly sheepish, Rick ran a hand through his hair and asked simply, “Shower?”

Daryl smiled up at him, “Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys feel that wasn't too rushed? Not sure when next chapter will be up, I'm really busy with my university work and have become obsessed with a new pairing (if any of you have seen Netflix's Daredevil than you may want to check out my fics for that), unfortunately both of those things mean I've fallen slightly out of love with this fic, but don't worry, I promise I'm not gonna just abandon it, I will finish it :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry for the wait! I've been really distracted with exams and other projects. Thank you all so much for all your lovely comments and support on the last chapter, I'm thrilled people are enjoying the development of this story.

“Thanks for coming with me again, Beth,” Daryl said as they walked across the car park, arms laden with brown paper bags filled with groceries. 

“No problem, Daryl,” the blonde girl smiled, stopping by her small red car and putting down her bags to get her keys out of her pocket. 

“I’m surprised Rick didn’t want to come with you,” she said as they loaded the groceries into the trunk.

“Oh he wanted to,” Daryl chuckled, slamming the trunk, “I wouldn’t let him, he would have ended up pulling his shoulder or something.”

“How’s he recovering?” Beth asked as they got into the car.

It had been almost two weeks since Rick had got shot, his arm was finally out of the sling but his injuries wasn’t totally healed yet. His doctor had given him some exercises to strength his muscles and make sure there was no lasting pain which, if it hadn’t been for Daryl, Rick would forget to do two times a day. The past two week had been two of the best of Daryl’s life, other people would probably have found it boring, but he had thrived. 

“He’s good, his injury is much better, the doctor said he should be able to go back to work in another week – not out on patrol but desk work.”

Beth smiled as she drove them out of the supermarket car park and back in the direction of home, “Maggie says Rick hates paperwork, says she always has to chase him up on it.”

Daryl laughed, “That doesn’t surprise me.” He saw Beth glanced at him meaningfully out of the corner of his eye.

“And how are you doing?” She asked lightly, though the seriousness of her question was evident. 

“I’m...” Daryl paused, wondering how best to describe how he was, but really there was only one word, “I’m perfect.”

After a short drive Beth pulled up into Rick’s driveway and switched off the engine. Getting out of the car Daryl felt a smile spread across his face as he saw the front door open and Rick appearing. He was dressed casually in a pair of dark denim jeans and a dark purple shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was still slightly damp from the shower they had shared not long ago and he had shaved for the first time in a few days, Daryl felt his breath catch in his throat, he wondered if he was ever going to get used to this – he hoped not. 

“That was quick,” Rick said cheerily when he reached the car. His arm slipped around Daryl’s waist and Daryl accepted the sweet kiss eagerly.

“No traffic about and the store was quiet for a change,” Beth said as she opened the trunk.

“Oh no you,” Daryl chuckled as Rick went to help unload the shopping. He caught hold of Rick’s hand and pulled him gently back a step, “You’re not helping, your shoulder –“

“- Is fine,” Rick interrupted, trying to sneak passed Daryl again. He huffed a laugh as Daryl darted in front of him and jabbed him in the chest with a finger.

“We’ve got this,” Daryl said stubbornly, laying his hand flat on Rick’s chest as an excuse to feel the warmth of his skin through the thin layer of his shirt. Rick sighed overdramatically and Daryl leaned in to kiss his clean-shaven cheek, unable to make up his mind whether he missed the prickle of stubble or not. 

He and Beth carried the groceries into the house with Rick following them, hand rubbing his bad shoulder, something he had begun to do subconsciously. Jessie greeted Beth with her usual jubilant bark and violently wagging tail but her attention was quickly snatched by the smell of the food in the bags. 

“Thanks for taking Daryl to the store, Beth,” Rick said, giving her a one-armed hug, “Are you sure you won’t join us later for the barbeque?”

“Thank you, Rick, but no. You already have guests, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

When Rick had told him yesterday that Shane, Lori and his kids were coming for a barbeque Daryl had instantly been filled with apprehension. It wasn’t the prospect of hanging out with Shane or Rick’s kids that made Daryl’s palms sweat, it was the memory of the way Lori had looked at him back at the hospital – as if he was gum she had trodden on. Rick had asked if it was ok and of course Daryl had said it was, he didn’t want Rick to miss out on seeing his kids because of how he felt. Besides, things were different now, he told himself, the barbeque was a planned social event, not an unexpected meeting in hospital, Lori had just probably been stressed that day because of her worry for Rick. 

Saying her goodbyes, Beth left and Daryl helped Rick put away the groceries. He glanced at the clock on the wall and saw they had three hours before their guests were meant to be arriving. An unpleasant weight settled in his stomach. His anxiety must have shown on his face for Rick stopped what he was doing and took his arm gently. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Daryl said quickly, not meeting Rick’s eyes.

“Daryl.”

He sighed and turned around, “It’s just, back at the hospital, Lori didn’t seem to like me and I’m worried she still might not and it’ll ruin your time seeing your kids.”

Rick stepped in close and ran his hands lightly up and down Daryl’s arms, making his shiver. 

“It will be fine, Daryl, don’t worry,” he promised, kissing his forehead, “Once Lori meets you properly she’ll see what an amazing guy you are and if she doesn’t I’ll arrest her.”

Daryl snorted at Rick’s joke, leaning in and wrapping his arms around the other man’s shoulders. Rick hugged him tightly, kissing the side of his neck. Daryl closed his eyes and rested his cheek on Rick’s good shoulder. They stayed like that for a minute, simply enjoying the closeness before they pulled apart and got back to work.

***

A few hours later Rick was in the middle of fighting with the collapsible table and chairs when he heard the doorbell drift through the house and Jessie jumped up and went barking inside. Daryl straightened up opposite, his face going pale and he bit his lip nervously. Abandoning the pain-in-the-arse table, Rick stepped over and kissed Daryl chastely. 

“Courage,” he told the other man, half teasing half serious, “It will be fine – fun even I hope.” 

Looking like he’d rather poke his eyes out with a stick than agree, Daryl muttered something under his breath that Rick didn’t catch. The doorbell rang again and Jessie’s barking grew loudly. 

“Go, get the door,” Daryl said, gesturing at the scattering of garden furniture strewn across the lawn, “I’ll finish putting these up.” 

Smiling, Rick dived in for one last quick kiss then hurried inside. He was nervous too, sure, but he was more excited, he wanted Daryl to meet his kids properly for he hoped they would be spending a lot of time together in the future.

“Enough, Jess!” Rick shouted over the barking of the dog and she instantly stopped, standing crowded by the front door, tail wagging. Nudging her back with his hip, Rick pulled open the door and instantly there was a squeal of excitement as Judith hurdled herself at him. “Daddy!” 

Forgetting about his still-tender shoulder, Rick scooped his little girl up into his arms, accepting the torrent of kisses from her all over his face.

“Hey, baby girl,” he grinned, tickling her sides. Judith giggled and squirmed in his arms and he put her down. Though it had only been about that long since he last saw his daughter he had missed her every second, her absence a bleeding hole in his heart. 

“Hey, dad,” Carl greeting, stepping forwards and hugging his father. Rick swore every time he saw his son he got taller, he was almost his height now. 

“You gonna stop growing anytime soon?” He laughed, ruffling the teenager’s mop of dark hair, “And how about a haircut?”

“That’s what I keep telling him,” Lori said, smiling though her shoulders were tense.

“And I keep saying the kid can choose how he wants his own hair,” Shane chuckled, holding a six-pack of beer out to Rick.

Taking the beer, Rick stepped aside and ushered them in. Jessie bounded around them excited as they entered, Judith giggling and tried to catching the dog’s tail but missed. Shane and the kids headed into the kitchen but Lori hesitated in the hallway, catching Rick’s eye as he closed the front door after them. 

“So, where is he?” She asked, shifting her hold on the large bowl of salad she had brought. 

“His name is Daryl, Lori,” Rick retorted, trying his best not to get too angry, knowing that would only make the situation more awkward, “and he’s out the back.”

Lori pursed her lips, holding back on what she wanted to say. Rick knew the action well, their failed marriage was testimony to that fact.

“Today isn’t about me and Daryl,” Rick went on, “It’s about Carl and Judith meeting Daryl. I want them to get along, please don’t do anything to stop that.”

“I only have our children’s best interests at heart, Rick,” Lori snapped defensively.

“Daryl is a good man, Lori, just you wait and see.”

Before she could say anything else, Rick took the bowl of salad from her hands and marched into the kitchen after the others. Carl was peering underneath the foil covering the bowls and trays on the worktop.

“I don’t think you’ve bought enough food, dad,” Carl said sarcastically. 

Rick nudged him playfully with his elbow, “Well you’re here so definitely not.”

Putting the bowl of salad down on the only empty space remaining, Rick went outside through the back door to see Daryl had successfully assembled all the chairs and the table and was greeting Shane, shaking his hand. Rick was relieved to see that first impressions had not stuck between them. Judith had been reoccupied chasing Jessie but at Rick’s appearance she ran to him and grabbed on to his trouser leg. 

“It’s the man from the hospital,” she said excitedly, pointing at Daryl. 

“His name’s Daryl,” Rick told her, crouching down quickly to her level, “He’s very important to me, Judith, so I hope you like him.” 

Judith surveyed Daryl for a moment, her round face screwing up in concentration, “He seems nice.” 

Rick chuckled and straightened up, taking her hand, “Come on, let’s say hello to him.” 

Daryl broke off talking to Shane as they approached and Rick was pleased to see his face was no longer pale and anxious. 

“Judith, meet Daryl.”

“Hello,” she said, looking up at Daryl, “I remember you from the hospital.”

Daryl blushed, clearly awkward around children and said, “Y-yes, I remember you too.”

Lori and Carl appeared next to Rick and Lori said stiffly, “Hello, Daryl, nice to see you again.”

Though her words were obviously a lie, Daryl didn’t show any sign of being offended and shook Lori’s offered hand calmly. Feeling himself swelling with pride, Rick caught Shane’s eyes and his friend winked at him. 

“Who would like a drink?” He asked, putting his hand on Judith’s head, feeling her soft curls. 

“Juice!” Judith demanded.

“Judith,” scolded Lori.

“Please,” the little girl added, smiling cheekily.

“Can I have a beer?” Carl asked, trying to sound like it wasn’t a big deal. 

Rick saw Lori blanch once more and quickly interrupted, “Sure, one beer, and that’s only because we’ll be eating soon.”

“Should I begin cooking up some burgers and sausages?” Shane asked.

“Sure, they’re just in the kitchen.”

Rick, Shane and Daryl all went inside the house as Lori and Carl settled down in the chairs and Judith went back playing with Jessie. Daryl leaned against the worktop and let out his breath.

“Alright?” Rick asked him, putting a hand on his hip and Daryl nodded.

“You’re going fine, man,” Shane said, thumping Daryl on the shoulder before he picked up the plates piled high with meat and left them alone. 

Rick wrapped his arms around Daryl’s shoulders and hugging him close, whispering into his ear, “You did great back there, I’m so proud.”

Daryl huffed into the collar of Rick’s shirt, winding his arms around the other’s waist.

“I mean it, Daryl,” Rick insisted. Daryl lifted his head and Rick kissed him. 

Someone cleared their throat loudly as they broke apart. Lori stood framed in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. “I came to ask if there’s anything you needed me to help with for lunch but I see you’re a little reoccupied.” 

Daryl went stiff and angry frustration rose up within Rick. He ignored Lori for a moment and focused on Daryl. “Why don’t you go outside and help Judith catch Jessie, I’m sure she’d appreciate the help.” 

Daryl nodded, eyes down cast as he slipped out of Rick’s arms and walked towards Lori. Stepping out of the way, Lori watched Daryl leave, eyes narrowed.

“Lori,” Rick growled, clenching his hands into fists, “What exactly is your problem?”

“Nothing, I have no problem,” she said, walking to the fridge and opening it, helping herself to a bottle of lemonade.

“Cut the crap, Lori,” Rick snapped, moving to block her path as she turned to get a glass from the cupboard, “What is it about Daryl that’s gotten you so pissed?”

“It’s not him.”

“Then what is it? Is because I’ve found someone else? That I’m happy?”

“Oh course not, it’s –“

“- Good, coz you’re a fine one to talk, I’ve gotten used to the fact that my best friend is living with you now, is helping to raise my kids,” Rick didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in his tone, “You wasted no time finding someone else and moving on.”

“God damn it, Rick, it isn’t about him, it’s about you!”

Thrown, Rick frowned, “What about me?”

“It’s because you’re – he’s a, well a he.”

Rick was shocked, he had never expected Lori to say that, even if she had thought it.

“I’m not homophobic,” she said quickly, clearly seeing the furious look on Rick’s face, “It’s just...we were married for almost ten years, Rick, and I had no idea that you were...”

“Why does that matter? I’m still the same person, just because I love a man doesn’t change who I am, Lori.”

Lori looked at the ground, unable to meet his gaze, “I – I feel like I never knew the real you. And he’s so...”

“So what? Just say it, Lori!”

“He’s trouble, Rick, bad news. Who knows what kind of baggage you have welcomed into your life by letting him move in here? He must have a dark past, made bad decision, why else would he have been living on the street? Why kind of person has no family, no friends to turn to for help? He’s dangerous, Rick.”

“I can look after myself,” Rick growled, struggling to hold his rage back, “And don’t you dare make assumptions about Daryl like that, you don’t know him, you have no idea what he’s been through, the type of person he is! It’s my business who I let into my home, not yours anymore Lori!”

“And the kids?” She snapped, “What about them?”

Finally understanding what this was all about, Rick felt himself shake with rage, “Y-you think he’s a danger to our kids. You think that I would knowingly put them at risk! I would kill for our kids, Lori, I would never put my own happiness above theirs! Yes, I want them to like Daryl, I want them to get along because that’s what you hope for when you are trying to build a family. I want Daryl in my future, Lori, I want him and the kids.”

“Alright, Rick, I get it!” Lori spat, “You love him, well good for you!”

Unable to look at Lori any longer, Rick turned on his heel and stormed outside. He stalked across the grass and sat down hard in the chair next to Daryl’s. 

“What’s wrong?” Daryl asked, eyes darting to Shane worriedly. Shane looked over his shoulder back at the house and put down his beer on the grass and got up, heading inside. 

“I...I just remembered why I divorced that woman,” Rick growled, his voice shaking. His stared at Carl and Judith playing with Jessie a few feet away, thankfully oblivious to what was going on.

Daryl reached towards Rick but hesitated before actually touching him, eyes darting to the kids. Rick caught hold of his hand and entwined their fingers, “They know already.”

Nodding sheepishly, Daryl squeezed Rick’s hand but before he could speak Shane returned, his face grave. 

“Hey, Rick, is it alright if me and Lori skip out on lunch? The kids can stay, it’s the weekend after all, I’ll pick them up tomorrow if that’s ok?”

“Are you sure Lori is happy with them staying here?” Rick muttered bitterly, face dark.

Shane shrugged, “Maybe not, but you’re their father, you deserve to spend time with them, no matter what she thinks.”

Rick got up, facing Shane and clapping his friend’s hand, “Thanks, buddy.”

“Don’t mention it,” Shane smiled, glancing at Daryl, “I’ll be round about ten tomorrow morning.”

“Alright.”

“Carl, Judith, how’d you to like to stay with your dad tonight?” Shane called to them.

“Yes!” Judith cried excitedly and Carl said casually, “Sure,” too busy playing tug-of-war with Jessie to even look over.

“Your mum isn’t feeling so good so we’re gonna leave, you two behave yourselves! See you tomorrow morning.”

Clearly happy with the arrangement, Carl and Judith didn’t object and Shane left after exchanging an apologetic look with Rick and shaking Daryl’s hand.

“What happened in there?” Daryl asked Rick carefully, eyes wide with worry.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rick assured him, running a hand through his hair, “Let’s get this barbeque underway, I’m starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Please leave me a comment below, your words mean everything to me! <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :) this chapter just wouldn't come out so sorry it's a little shorter than usual!

After the barbeque all four of them headed to the park to walk Jessie.

“Daddy, daddy, swing me!” Judith pleaded, tugging at Rick’s good arm eagerly as they walked along. Rick chuckled and caught Daryl’s eye, asking, “Do you mind?”

Daryl shook his head and held out his hand to Judith whilst Rick took hold of her other. On the count of three they lifted Judith up together and swung her back and forth. The little girl shrieked in excitement, kicking her legs wildly and giggling. A smile pulled at Daryl’s lips and he blushed as he caught Rick watching him, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness, all tensions caused by Lori earlier gone.

When they got to the park, Carl threw the ball they had brought and Jessie bounded after it, Judith laughing and running after the dog. Rick fell into step next to Daryl and slipped his hand into his.

“Thank you,” he whispered into his ear, kissing his cheek sweetly.

“For what?” Daryl asked, squeezing Rick’s hand in his.

“Just...being here,” Rick said, trying to sound casual but his words caused a lump to rise in Daryl’s throat and he leaned in and kissed Rick on the corner of his mouth. The Deputy Sheriff stopped walking and turned his head slightly to kiss him back. Carl averted his eyes, pulling out his mobile from his pocket and focusing on the brightly lit screen.

“Daddy, Daryl!” Judith called to them from beneath the large tree she stood under a little way off. Breaking apart, they walked towards her, Carl tailing behind them texting.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Rick asked when they reached Judith, bending down and scooping the little girl up into his arms.

She pointed up into the branches of the tree, “The ball’s stuck in the tree!”

Daryl looked up and saw she was right. Jessie circled them, wining loudly.

“We’ll get it down,” Rick promised, scanning the ground for a long stick or something to use, but the words were barely out of his mouth before Carl began to climb the tree.

“Carl, get down!” Rick scowled, his voice filled with worry.

“Don’t panic, dad,” Carl said down at them, “I do this all the time!”

Daryl moved so he was standing directly under where Carl was climbing, hoping to break the kids fall if he was to fall. But they needn’t have worried, Carl easily reached the ball and dropped it down into Daryl’s hands, then skilfully slipped back down to the ground.

Rick set Judith down and grabbed his son’s shoulder, “Don’t do that again!”

“It was nothing, honestly. Daryl, tell dad to stop being such a mother hen.”

Daryl snorted in amusement, “Rick, don’t be mad at him. He was just helping.”

Rick shot Daryl a look but let go of Carl and sighed, “I’m not mad.”

“Um, where’s Judith?” Carl asked, looking around.

Rick and Daryl froze then both jumped into action at once. They both spun around, staring wildly, anxiously searching for the little girl but she was nowhere in sight.

“Judith!” Rick shouted. The panic was like nothing Daryl had ever felt before, it was as if he had been electrocuted.

“She must have wandered off.”

“Jessie, find Judith,” Rick ordered the dog who had been sniffing around the base of the tree, the scent of squirrel preoccupying her. The dog’s ears pricked and she quickly began to sniff the ground.

“Carl, stay with me,” Rick told his son fiercely as he looked like it was about to run off in search of his sister.

“I’ll look that way,” Daryl said, gesturing to the part of the park they had yet to walk  
through. Jessie barked loudly and began to run back the way they had come, head down, nose to the ground. Rick and Carl followed the dog whilst Daryl went the opposite way.

“Judith, where are you?” He called, trying to keep the panic from his voice. He jogged through the park, looking all around as he went. He could hear Rick calling his daughter’s name behind him. There were only a few other people in the park today and Daryl jogged over the nearest couple and asked breathlessly, “Excuse me, did you see a little girl come by here on her own a moment ago?”

The couple looked at each other, “No, no sorry, we haven’t.”

Thanking them, Daryl took off again, heading towards the play area, hoping Judith had gone there to play on the slide or something. There were three young boys playing on the swings but no Judith. 

Real panic was coursing through Daryl’s veins now, he could taste it at the back of his throat, hear it in the blood pounding in his ears. He stopped and turned in a circle, “Judith! Judith!”

“Daryl!”

His knee almost gave way in relief as he spun around to see Judith running towards him.

“Oh thank god,” he gasped, crouching down and pulling the little girl into his arms the moment she was within reach. Judith seemed oblivious to his concern.

“What were you thinking running off like that?” He demanded, holding her at arm’s length.

“I-I saw a puppy and wanted to go see it,” Judith said innocently, her eyes wide, “I’m sorry, don’t be mad.”

Shoulders sagging, Daryl loosened his grip on the little girl’s arms and touched her cheek, “I’m not angry, sweetheart, you just scared me that’s all. Promise me you won’t do that again?”

“I’m sorry,” Judith whispered, looking like she might cry, “I promise.”

“It’s ok,” he assured her quickly, picking her up and standing, “Let’s go find your dad and brother, they’ll be worried sick.”

“No, wait,” Judith wriggled around in his arms so she could see over his shoulder, “There’s a man over there who said he knows you.”

Daryl looked around in the direction she was pointing but could see no one, “What man, Judith?”

“H-he was by that tree...he’s gone now.”

Unease prickled Daryl’s back and tightened his arms around Judith, “You need to be more careful, darling, don’t go running off again like that and don’t talk to strangers.”

“Daryl!” 

Rick’s shout made them both jump. Jessie reached them first, bounding around them and nudging Judith’s tiny foot where it hung down by Daryl’s side. The little girl giggled and Daryl put her down. Rick skidded to a halt in front of them and immediately pulled Judith into his arms.

“Oh thank god, thank god,” he panted, clutching his daughter to his chest. He closed his eyes for a second.

“You found her!” Carl exclaimed in relief.

Daryl put an arm around the boy’s shoulders, “Yes, she’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Judith, what were you thinking!” Rick began but the little girl escaped from his arms and threw herself at Daryl, wrapping her tiny arms around his middle.

“Don’t, Rick,” Daryl told him quickly, stroking Judith’s long hair, “She’s ok, don’t  
scare her. I already made her promise not to go running off like that again.”

Rick looked from Daryl’s face to his daughter clinging on to him, her face buried in the fabric of his shirt. The angry fear slowly drained from his face and Daryl turned Judith around, saying gently, “Go give your dad a hug.”

With a little push, Judith obeyed, stepping shyly to Rick who picked her up.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she whispered, arms tight around his neck, “I promise I won’t run off again.”

Rick rubbed her back and kissed her hair, “It’s ok, sweetheart.”

“She said there was a man,” Daryl said slowly, glancing back over to where Judith had indicated.

“A man?” Rick was instantly in cop-mode, “Judith, honey, what man? What did he say? Did he touch you?”

Judith shook her head, “H-he asked about Daryl.”

Rick frowned, meeting Daryl’s worried eyes, “Judith, what did the man look like?”

“He was big and...kind of scary.”

Daryl’s stomach twisted itself painfully into knots.

“What else, sweetheart?” Rick prompted gently.

“H-he only had one hand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right, Merle is on the horizon :D


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's that I see on the horizon? PLOT!
> 
> Enjoy :)

“We don’t know it was him, Daryl,” Rick said in a hushed voice later that evening.

They had put Judith to bed a couple of hours ago – though not before she insisted Daryl read her a bedtime story – and Carl had gone up a few minutes ago. Daryl had spent the rest of the day after the incident at the park totally on-edge, though he had done his best to act normal in front of the kids. Rick had done his part by keeping them busy, watching cartoons on the TV and playing board games, all the time keeping a careful eye on Daryl, often reaching over and squeezing his knee reassuringly. Now, finally with both the kids upstairs in bed, they could talk about it.

“Daryl? Did you hear what I said?”

Blinking hard, Daryl turned his head and looked at Rick sitting on the sofa next to him, one leg tucked beneath him and leaning forwards with an anxious expression on his face.

“Y-yes, sorry,” Daryl stammered, swallowing hard and looking down at his hands in his lap, “I heard you. B-but what if it was Merle?”

Rick frowned, confusion creasing his handsome face, “What if it was? Don’t you want to see your brother? I thought you and him had a good relationship.”

Daryl didn’t meet Rick’s eyes and balled his hands into fists to hide that they were trembling, “We...it’s complicated.” He couldn’t tell Rick the truth about why he was fearful of seeing Merle again, that would mean revealing the lies he had told him, and that would cost him everything they were building here.

“Daryl,” Rick said seriously, reaching out and taking his clenched hands gently in his own, “I want to help. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Shaking his head, Daryl tried to tug his hands back but Rick tightened his grip.

“I – I haven’t seen him in so long...or even spoke to him,” Daryl whispered, hot tears pricking the back of his eyes, “Not since the fire and my father’s...”

“What you’ve told me about Merle, Daryl, tells me that he cares for you deeply. He’s your brother, he’s your family.”

“But, if it was him Judith saw, how is he out of prison?” Daryl asked the question to try and steer Rick away from asking questions.

“His case file said he had the chance of early release on grounds of good behaviour,” Rick said, his blue eyes roaming Daryl’s face trying to read him, “You must have missed Merle these past years?”

“Yes, of course,” Daryl replied quickly, “I’ve thought about him every day since he was sentenced, but I –“ He broke off, catching himself, he couldn’t tell Rick the truth.

“Are you afraid of what he might think of you?” Rick asked carefully.

That wasn’t it but Daryl jumped on the explanation, “Y-yes, Merle was never the most...open-minded person. I don’t think he’ll be happy to find out I’m...”

Rick shifted closer on the sofa, putting an arm around Daryl’s shoulders and pulling his close.

“It’s ok,” he murmured, kissing his forehead sweetly, “I understand.”

Daryl heard the bitterness in Rick’s voice and he said simply, “You mean Lori.”

Rick nodded, letting out a heavy sigh, “I’ll give Maggie a ring tomorrow morning, ask her to phone the prison where Merle was sent, see if he was been released or not.”

Heart beating fast, Daryl kept quiet. Rick rubbed his arm and kissed his cheek, “It’s ok, if he has we’ll deal with it together, I’m sure he’ll understand better than you think, Daryl.”

“Are if he hasn’t been released?”

“We could visit him maybe, or just you if you want.”

Daryl shook his head, “I – I don’t want to visit him in prison.”

“Ok,” Rick said slowly, cleary still confused about why, “Whatever you want, Daryl.”

There was a brief moment of silence then Daryl murmured, “I’m tired.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” Rick agreed, getting to his feet and offering his hand to Daryl, who took it after a second of hesitation.

“I love you,” Rick said seriously, staring into Daryl’s eyes. Daryl’s throat closed up and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish. It was the first time Rick had actually said it.

“I...I –“

“- You don’t have to say it back,” Rick murmured, lifting a hand and cupping Daryl’s face, “I just wanted you to hear it so...so you know.”

“I know,” Daryl breathed, his chest aching, his hands twitched by his sides so he raised them and put them on Rick’s hips, “I’m sorry for being so –“

Rick cut him off with a kiss. Daryl barely had time to return it before Rick pulled back and said, “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Blushing, Daryl ducked his head shyly, dropping his forehead onto Rick’s shoulder. Rick wrapped his arms around his back, one hand slipping up into his hair and massaging his scalp. Daryl nuzzled his face into Rick’s neck and breathed in Rick’s unique smell. If the man Judith had seen in the park was Merle and if Rick ever met him and learned the truth then Daryl knew he would never hear those three words spoken to him again.

“Come on,” Rick murmured, kissing Daryl’s hair, “Let’s go to bed.”

***

The next morning Rick let Daryl sleep in, knowing the man hadn’t slept much during the night, he had felt him tossing and turning next to him in bed, unable to drift off. He had woken up at 8:30am to the sound of a timid knock at his bedroom door and he had got out of bed and opened it to find Judith hovering outside. She had borrowed one of his t-shirts to sleep in which came down below her knees and her long hair was curly and tousled. Rick didn’t think he had ever seen anything cuter.

Scooping Judith up into his arms, they had gone downstairs and Rick had begun to make breakfast whilst Judith sat on the kitchen island kicking her feet out and giggling as Jessie kept darting in to lick her toes. 

It wasn’t long before the smell of sizzling bacon drew Carl downstairs.

“Morning, son,” Rick greeted, as Carl yawned hugely and opened the fridge, taking out a carton of orange juice, “How did you sleep?”

“Fine,” Carl replied, pouring himself a glass of orange, “Where’s Daryl?”

“Still in bed,” Rick said, turning over the bacon in the pan on the stove.

“I like him,” Carl stated, taking a seat and stroking Jessie’s ears as the large dog padded over and sat by his feet, “He’s cool.”

“I’m glad,” Rick said, the relief at hearing his son say that warming his insides, “Do you want egg with your bacon?”

“Yes please.”

Rick was just cracking a couple of eggs into the pan when Daryl appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, sleepy eyes and pyjamas slightly crinkled.

“Good morning,” Rick said, smiling over his shoulder as Daryl stepped up behind him to peer into the sizzling pan, “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Daryl said, stepping sideways to get a glass from the cupboard.

“Hey,” Rick said teasingly. Daryl turned back to him and he leaned in to kiss him chastely. Blushing scarlet, Daryl threw a glance at Carl and Judith but neither showed any signs of being offended or uncomfortable.

Daryl moved to take a seat opposite Carl, smiling his thanks at the boy as he pushed the carton of orange juice towards him across the table. Rick busied himself adding more bacon and eggs to the pans, though not before he savoured the sight of Daryl and his kids all sitting together happily – Judith having got off the worktop to sit on Daryl’s lap as if she had known him for years. It was the most perfect of sights and Rick couldn’t help but grin as he took out plates from the cupboard to begin dishing up breakfast. 

They talked and ate at the same time, well Rick and Carl talked mostly, Carl telling him about how school was going and blushing when Rick asked whether there were any girls he fancied.

They were just clearing up after breakfast when the doorbell rang. Rick wiped his hands on a towel before he went and answered it. A moment later he returned, followed by Shane.

“Morning, Daryl, morning, kids,” he greeted loudly, nodding to Daryl, ruffling Carl’s hair and kicking Judith up and kissing her on the cheek. A stab of jealously pierced Rick’s stomach and he looked away.

“Carl, Judith, you run upstairs and get dressed now. Carl helped your sister please,” Rick told them as he joined Daryl at the sink washing up the plates.

“Do you want a coffee, Shane?” Rick asked as they left the room, Jessie hot on their heels.

“No thanks, buddy,” Shane replied, taking a seat whilst he waited for the kids to return, “I hope everything went ok yesterday after we left?”

Rick saw Daryl glance at him out of the corner of his eye but he replied casually, “Yes, of course, it was great having them to stay.”

“I’m sorry again about Lori yesterday, Rick, I don’t know what her problem was. How long till your back to work? Glenn’s a good cop but I miss ya partner.”

“Soon,” Rick smiled, “the doctor said I can return to work in a week, but only desk duty, will still be a few weeks till my shoulders fully healed and I can return to active duty.”

Shane nodded and the kids reappeared, dressed in their own clothes.

“Right then guys,” Shane smiled, getting up, “let’s be off, I have things to do today.”

Saying goodbye to his kids was hard, Rick had loved having them spend the night, and seeing them comfortable with Daryl had given him a glimpse of the life – the family – he wanted so badly.

“See you soon, sweetheart,” he said, hugging Judith tight and kissing her. His little girl hugged him back, tiny arms locked around his neck, “Bye bye, daddy, love you.”

Judith let go of him and turned to Daryl who picked her up and said his goodbyes.

“Take care, Carl,” Rick said, hugging his son.

“Bye, dad. I have a game next Thursday, maybe you could make it?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Rick promised, letting go of his son and watching him and Judith walk out of the front door and towards Shane and his car. He lifted his arm and waved goodbye. Daryl hovered by his side, his hand brushing the small of his back.

Back inside, Rick went upstairs to sort out the spare room whilst Daryl showed and got dressed. Rick came into his bedroom and kissed Daryl as he buckled his jeans.

“What do you fancy doing today?” He asked.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t mind.”

“How about a movie?”

“Ok.”

Rick went to shower and Daryl headed downstairs to watch some TV whilst Rick got dressed. The doorbell rang and he got up to answer it, assuming it was just the mailman or someone like that. As he stopped by the front door he couldn’t shake off a feeling that something bad was about to happen. He hesitated opening the door, his hand on the handle. Taking a deep breath, telling himself not to be stupid, Daryl opened the door just as Rick came down the stairs.

“Daryl? Who’s at the door?” He pulled it open and his world stopped.

“Hello, little brother, long time no see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always love to hear what you thought <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But the stars that marked our starting fall away.  
> We must go deeper into greater pain,  
> for it is not permitted that we stay.”   
> ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The questions are beginning to be answered...Enter Merle!

Daryl has been eighteen years old when he had finally escaped the hell which had been his life living under his father’s roof. Ten years on still remembered the heat of the fire on his face as he and Merle stood on the grass watching the flames engulf everything they had ever known. He remembered how beautiful and terrifying the roaring fire had looked like against the inky black sky. The burning haze around the fire gave the impression that the stars were melting, falling away into the hungry red flames. 

Merle had pushed him towards his bike which sat in the driveway, saying in a hoarse, panicked voice, “Go, little brother. Get as far away from here as you can.” 

“What about you?” Daryl has demanded, catching hold of his brother’s sleeve, trying to pull him with him onto the bike. 

He remembered how Merle’s smile at looked in the dancing firelight, dangerous and confident, as he had replied gruffly, “Don’t you worry about me, Daryl, I can look after myself.” 

Sirens had begun to sound in the distance, rushing closer, and Merle had shouted at Daryl to get on the bike and leave, to not come back. Daryl had been so numb with the shock of that evening that he had obeyed, swinging his leg over his bike and kicking it to life. As he had sped away from the burning house he had looked over his shoulder and see Merle silhouetted against the angry, orange inferno. That had been the last glimpse he had had of his brother for a decade, until now. 

Merle hadn’t changed, not really, he was still as Daryl pictured him in his mind. His face was more lined, his hair line more receded, his shoulders broader, but his eyes were still the same, as was the cocky curve of his mouth. Daryl was torn between stumbling back and slamming the door in his face and stepping forwards and throwing his arms around his brother. He somehow wanted to do both, but of course couldn’t, so instead he just stood rooted to the spot, speechless and staring. 

Dimly, he heard Rick’s approaching footsteps coming towards him and he flinched as if he had been struck. His hand on the door tightened and his knuckled went white. He almost slammed the door then, desperate to keep the truth from crossing the threshold along with his brother. Rick stopped just behind him, looking at Merle standing on his doorstep with careful eyes. 

“Daryl?” He jumped, unsure of who had said his name. Merle was frowning now, the closest to hurt his gruff features and pride would allow him to look.

“What’s the matter, little brother, you not happy to see your big brother Merle?” His familiar drawl made the hairs down Daryl’s arms stand on end. 

“Daryl?” Rick said gently, his eyes on him, “Do you want your brother to come inside?”

He didn’t know. Until now he hadn’t realised just how much he had missed his brother, yet he was terrified that if he let him in Merle would reveal to Rick the truth – intentionally or not. Daryl knew, that by asking, Rick would support his choice either way. The tense line of his shoulders told Daryl that the Deputy Sheriff was ready to jump to his defence too if necessary, to force Merle off his front porch. Daryl knew that would only end one way and he didn’t want to see Rick hurt so he took a deep shaky breath and accepted his fate. Meeting his brother’s eyes, Daryl couldn’t help but feel like he was staring down the barrel of a gun as he said weakly, “Merle...Come in.” 

Rick moved back and Daryl tried too, his legs feeling heavy as if they were filled with concrete. Merle stepped forwards, inside, and pulled Daryl into a bone-crushing hug. Rigid, Daryl tried to keep his panic subdued, though his heart was beating so hard he feared it would burst from his chest. 

“It’s good to see you, little brother,” Merle said close to his ear, pulling back and clapping him on the shoulders with his hands. He looked him up and down and Daryl squirmed under his scrutiny, “You need some more meat on those bones!” 

Daryl threw a look at Rick over his shoulder, checking he was still there. Rick’s jaw was set stiffly and he had his arms folded over his chest. Daryl felt a flash of gratitude that Rick wasn’t dressed in his uniform - that was one fight he was not ready for. 

Merle let go of Daryl and turned his attention to Rick too, “How’s the pretty-boy?”

Stomach twisting painfully in a knot, Daryl answered quickly, “He’s Rick, he’s a friend, I’m just crashing here for a while till I get myself back on my feet.”

Rick’s eyes flickered to Daryl then back to Merle and stepped forwards, holding out his hand politely. 

“Good to meet you, Merle, Daryl’s talked about you.” 

Merle didn’t take Rick’s offered hand, his eyes narrowing. “You hold yourself like a cop,” he growled, voice dangerous. Daryl saw Rick tense, retracting his hand and hooking his thumb into the waistband of his trousers. 

Quickly to detract Merle, Daryl blurted, “Merle, what you doing out?” 

“Early parole,” Merle grunted, “Good behaviour and all that.” 

Daryl found that hard to believe and his scepticism must have shown on his face for Merle laughed gruffly and clapped him heartily on the back. “Don’t worry, little brother, I didn’t break out or anything. I wasn’t about to waste anymore of my life rotting away behind those bars.” 

Daryl tried to smile, tried to appear that he has happy to see his brother out of prison, but it couldn’t, the risk of his lie being revealed was too severe. 

“You got anything to drink? I’m fucking parched man,” Merle drawled, stomping up the hallway. Rick began to speak, “Sure, the kitchen’s just through there –“ But Merle was already pushing passed him and turning into the kitchen. Daryl saw the way Rick’s hands balled into fists and the muscle in his cheek jumped. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I don’t know what he’s doing here, I don’t know how he found me here, I –“ 

“- He’s your brother, Daryl,” Rick interrupted him, “He’s welcome here as long as you want him to be.” 

Before Daryl could reply Merle yelled out from the kitchen, “Oh shit!” 

And they both hurried after him to see Merle pinned against the fridge by Jessie, the German Shepherd growling, hackles on end and teeth bared. 

“Get your crazy fucking dog off me!” 

“Jessie, here now!” Rick ordered and Jessie stopped growling, glancing over her shoulder at Rick before she stalked over. 

“Good girl,” he praised, touching her large head. Jessie remained tense, the hair down her spine still bristling, eyes untrusting and fixed firmly on Merle. Merle glowered at her in return and Daryl tried not to snap that it was his brother’s own fault for barging in like that. 

“You got beer?” Merle asked gruffly, turning his back on them and opening the fridge door. 

“Help yourself,” Rick said dryly, his hand on Jessie’s collar.

“Merle, how did you know I was here?” Daryl asked the burning question. 

“I saw ya yesterday,” Merle muttered, slamming the fridge door shut, “in the park. I went searching for ya everywhere, I didn’t know if you were even still in town, but I got lucky, saw ya walking through the park calling for the little girl. Cute thing, by the way, she had nothing but good things to say about you, baby brother.” 

“She’s my daughter,” Rick growled, protective of Judith even though she wasn’t there. 

Merle ignored Rick, carrying on as if he hadn’t spoken, “So I followed you all home. Was gonna call in yesterday but something came up, run in with some old friends, you know how it is.” It was then that Daryl noticed for the first time there was a shadow of a newly forming bruise on Merle’s cheek and a fresh cut over his eyebrow. 

Rick touched Daryl’s elbow and said, “I’m gonna give you two some space. I’ll be in the living room.” Daryl wanted to grab hold of Rick’s hand and tell him to stay but instead he nodded and watched Rick leave the kitchen with Jessie at his heels. When he heard the sound of the TV being switched on he turned back to Merle and demanded, “You got into a fight? Why?” 

Merle waved his stump dismissively as if he was shooing a fly away, “If ya wanna call it that than go ahead. I call it payback – justice for my little brother.” 

An unpleasant chill slithered down Daryl’s spine and he began uneasily, “Merle, I don’t want – I mean I haven’t...no one has touched me since the night of the fire. That isn’t my life anymore.”

“I know that, Jesus what does a man have to do around here for a little gratitude? I still wanted to make things right. All those filthy bastards deserve worse than I gave ‘em last night, they deserve what dear-old-dad got!” Merles voice was rising.

“It was years ago, Merle, I just wanna forget about it. Start fresh.”

“You mean you wouldn’t kill those arseholes who fucking raped you when you were a kid if you had the chance? Hell, Daryl, they don’t deserve to be walking around scot-free!”

“I know they don’t but –“

“- Where’s your fucking backbone gone, Daryl? Just because your shacking up with a dude I didn’t expect you to be a fucking pansy!”

The blood drained from Daryl’s face, “W-what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Merle growled, prowling towards Daryl, “I told you – I saw you yesterday. All those nights when I found you used and bleeding after they had had their way with you – how could you want to shack up with a guy?”

Daryl wanted to disappear, he wanted the floor beneath his feet to open up and swallow him whole. He tried to speak, but his throat was hoarse and dry, “I – I – Rick is different. He is a good man, he’d never force himself on me, he –“ 

“- That is not the point, Daryl!” Merle shouted, “The fucking point is why the fuck aren’t you more happy to see me? Are you ashamed of me? And why the fuck aren’t you more grateful that I beat on the guys who raped you?” 

“Merle, please –“ 

“- No! You tell me right now why you are acting as if I’m a fucking bomb about to go off?”

The TV in the living room had gone quiet as Rick hovered, prepared to jump in a defend Daryl if necessary. 

Daryl did not notice, he tried desperately to salvage the situation, “I’m not, Merle, I am happy to see you. I just –“

“- Does he know?” Merle demanded, his face inched from Daryl’s, “Does is know the truth?”

“H-he knows about what happened to me,” Daryl stammered, fear seizing hold of his heart in a death-like grip, “But not that it was my fault –“ 

“- Don’t you think he fucking deserves to know what really happened?” 

“No, Merle, please don’t. It’ll ruin everything if he finds out!” Daryl knew Rick could hear what they were saying and he was terrified. “You said no one had to know, no one had to know the truth, we covered it up, you went to prison –“

There was movement behind him as Rick stepped into the doorway. His face was grave and blue eyes dark. 

“Daryl,” his voice was steady but pieced Daryl’s heart like a knife, “Look at me.”

For a second he didn’t move, he stared into Merle’s face, hating him at that moment. 

“You have ruined everything,” he breathed, wanting to sink to the floor and sob.

Merle shook his head, eyes sombre, “No, little brother, our lives have been fucked up since the days we were born.”

“Daryl!” Rick’s voice cracked like a whip and Daryl flinched, turning around to face Rick.

“I want the truth, Daryl,” Rick said, striding into the kitchen, “All of it. You know how much I care for you but I can’t keep doing this now I know you’ve lied to me.” 

He was right. They were both right. Rick needed – deserved – to know the type of man he had brought into his home, welcomed into his bed, introduced to his children... Daryl took a deep breath, readying himself to tell Rick everything, knowing it surely meant the end of them – he couldn’t imagine Rick, a cop, still wanting to be with him after he heard the truth. Daryl remembered once more how the blazing heat surrounding his burning house had made the stars look like they were melting, their bright, pure light fading. He felt like he was falling, the truth wrapping itself around him like the great black wings of a bird, dragging him down into the pain that would cripple him as he lost Rick. But, honestly, he knew it had only been a matter of time, he knew happiness was not something he was allowed to achieve. Merle was right, his life had been fucked up since the moment of his birth.

“My father’s death wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t Merle, he wasn’t drunk and he didn’t lose his temper. It was me. I killed my father. I’m a murderer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the big truth Daryl has been terrified of Rick finding out! How will Rick react to the truth and the lies he's been told? 
> 
> Next chapter will be mostly a flashback of the night of the fire/murder!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go guys! Most of this chapter is a flashback :) 
> 
> WARNING: Non-Con/rape, violence and offensive language.
> 
> (A huge thank you to me dear friend, Murdork, for helping me plan this chapter and to motivate me to write it - without her this chapter wouldn't be here now.)

It was six years since the death of his mother and yet again the anniversary had passed without the truth being admitted. Daryl had gone to the grave, just as he had been doing for the past six years, and laid a bunch of flowers at the foot of the simply grey headstone. He didn’t speak, he never did, he just had stood there staring at the grave, shivering. 

It was a warm night; Daryl leant out of his bedroom window, elbows braced on the sill. He stared up at the starry sky, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. The house behind him was unusually quiet, Merle was out hunting and his father was God-only-knew where, no doubt drinking himself into a coma. Daryl hoped he never made it hope, he hoped he was lying on the floor of some bar, or all alone in the gutter suffocating on his own vomit. Yet somehow Daryl knew he wasn’t going to be that lucky.

Lifting the cigarette to his lips he inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in for a few seconds before exhaling slowly. He remembered his mother used to hate smoking, forever complaining how it made the house and all her clothes smell. Daryl wondered whether she would be angry to learn he smoked, or whether she would be more disappointed. He wasn’t sure what was worse. 

From the window Daryl could see down the length of the street and he saw the headlights turn on to the road and head towards the house, swerving as it came. Icy dread snaked its way down Daryl’s throat to curl tightly around his stomach, making him feel physically sick. He stubbed out his cigarette on the sill as his father’s rusty old truck swung into the driveway beneath his window. Flicking the stub away into the night, Daryl took one finally forlorn look at the sky. He longed to sprout wings and fly between the stars, but such thoughts were only the fantasies of a child, Daryl’s feet remained firmly on the ground. 

Downstairs, Daryl heard the front door crash open as his father drunkenly stumbled into the house. Daryl resisted the urge to pretend he wasn’t in, to just stay quiet and hideaway in his room - pray his father would pass out on the sofa till morning. His father lumbered around downstairs, swearing as he walked into the furniture. 

Daryl crossed to his bed, kneel and reaching underneath and pulling out the cardboard box. The box was old, worn around the edges, the colour faded. He lifted the lid carefully and moved to sit on his bed, the broken mattress springs groaning beneath his weight. Inside the cardboard box was everything of his mother’s he had managed to salvage from the trash – photos, her necklace, a silk scarf, a half empty bottle of her perfume, her make-up powder brush, a mixed tape of her favourite music and the small amount of money she managed to save.

He hugged the box to his chest and closed his eyes. He missed her so much; he would give anything to see her again. The grief he felt was overshadowed by only one thing – his rage. Though his father had never admitted it, Daryl knew he was responsible, he hadn’t been allowed to see her body after all. His father had taken everything from him, his innocence, his childhood, his happiness, and his mother. How did a man like his father deserve to be alive whilst a woman like his mother was in the ground? 

There was a crash from downstairs and Daryl jumped. He quickly got up and returned the cardboard box to beneath his bed. He stood for a second staring at his bedroom door, for once he was trembling, he stood straight and determined, hands balled into fists by his side. Tonight was going to be the night he finally got the confession, he would hear his father say it, and he wouldn’t let another year role by without justice.

Striding to the door, Daryl opened it quickly and looked down the stairs. There was only one light on below, the lamp on the small table next to the sofa and it cast his father’s hulking shadow against the wall. Daryl watched it move for a moment, taking in a deep breath. The lamp, he knew, had been bought by his mother from a garage sale, it was a heavy old thing, made of brass and glass, it was the only thing in the house that was actually worth any money – he guessed that was why his father had chucked it with the rest of her stuff.

He descended the stairs, trying hard to not make any noise, but he did not need to worry, his father was cursing and muttering so loudly that he wouldn’t have heard the creak of the stairs anyway.

The man was sprawled out on the sofa, his filthy wife-beater riding up, revealing his fat stomach. The room stunk of booze, cigarette smoke, and something stronger. There were pieces of foil on the table, empty bottles, and take-away boxes. Daryl wrinkled his nose in disgust. He wouldn’t live like this anymore, one way or the other tonight was going to be his last night underneath his God-forsaken roof.

His father belched loudly, taking another swig from the bottle of whisky he clutched in his bear-like paw. Daryl squared his shoulders and moved forwards till he stood at the end of the sofa, looking down at his father. It took a second for the man’s drunken senses to notice he was there, his bleary, blood-shot eyes having difficulty focusing. 

“What the fuck you want?” He slurred, gesturing threatening with the bottle, its amber content sloshing around inside.

The words caught on Daryl’s tongue, his determination wavering for a second as the familiar fear tightened around his chest. His father sat up, swaying dangerously. He groaned and took another gulp from the bottle.

“I – I want you to say it,” the words came out too quiet and frightened and Daryl flinched as his father staggered upright and stomped towards him.

“Get on your knees,” he growled, his free hand fumbling with his belt buckle.

Daryl’s blood ran cold and he took a step back, the corner of the table knocking into the back of his knee painfully. His father blundered forwards, his large hand squeezing hold of Daryl’s scruff. Nausea washed over Daryl as his father tried to shove him down onto his knees as he had done countless times before, but things were different now, Daryl had a purpose.

At eighteen he was by no means of similar weight to his father, he was still skinny, his muscles not yet caught up with his bone growth, but he was wiry and fast. Twisting out of his father’s bruising grip, Daryl darted around the back of the sofa, using it as a barrier between them. His heart was beating loudly against his eardrums.

“I know you did it!” He blurted, his rage chasing away the fear, “I know her death was your fault! You killed her!”

His father let out a bellow like an enraged bull and he threw the bottle of whisky at Daryl. He ducked just in time and the bottle exploded against the wall behind him, alcohol spattering everywhere.

“You piece of shit!” His father roared, brandishing his fists, “You think you can resist me? Just like she did! You’re a fucking whore – just like her – a fucking cock-sucker!”

Daryl wasn’t stupid; he knew that his mother had been a prostitute.

“She was a good person!” He shouted back, red in the face now with rage, “And you took her from me! Just like you’ve taken everything from me!”

His father lurched towards him, not seeming to see the sofa between them. He stumbled into it, his weight knocking it over backwards. Daryl jumped back to avoid being hit by the sofa, the shattered glass from the bottle crunched beneath his shoes.

“You little bastard, you fucking runt! I should never have taken you in, I should have drowned you in the tube the night your whore mother came home with you!” His father was babbling now, struggling drunkenly to get to his feet, tangled in the cushions of the sofa and his own sluggish limbs.

“Shut your mouth! Stop calling her a whore!”

His father grinned wolfishly as he finally managed to get to his feet, “She was a whore – that fucking bitch was so dumb she thought I wouldn’t notice! But I did, I know, I know you aren’t mine – you little bastard! Look at you, how could you be mine? You’re pathetic!”

“You killed my mother!” Daryl was shouting at the top of his voice now, not caring that the neighbours could hear, “Say it! Admit you killed her!”

His father lurched forwards and seized hold of Daryl’s shirt, pinning him hard against the wall. Daryl struggled, clawing at the hands arms. He could feel the wetness of the whisky soaked into the plasterboard against his back. His father leaned in close, his foul hot breath puffing into Daryl’s face.

“I did it, I fucking killed that bitch whore,” the man confessed with pride and excitement in his voice and malicious gleaming in his eyes, “And it was the best fucking day of my life!”

Daryl yelled in fury, kicking out and hitting his father’s knee, but the man didn’t stumble back or let go of him. He bellowed in rage, the pain dulled by the booze rushing through his blood. Daryl gasped as he was yanked away from the wall and spun around then pinned back up against it.

“You fucking bastard, you fucking whore,” his father snarled in his ear, his clammy hand reaching round Daryl’s front and tearing open his jeans. Daryl fought back with everything he had but it was no use, his father was so much bigger and heavier than him. He heard the man’s ragged, excited panting in his ear and the clink of his buckle and the rasp of his flies.

“Get off me, get the fuck off me!” He shouted as the man shoved down his jeans and underwear, his naked arse revealed to the air. Growling, his father covered his mouth with one hand, the other reach between them and pumping his dick, forcing it to become hard despite the alcohol dulling his senses. Daryl screamed against the hand covering his mouth and his father grunted loudly against his ear. Daryl went limp, stopped fighting as he struggled to breathe, to think.

“Do it!” He shouted against his father’s sweaty palm, the words muffled but still recognisable, “Fucking do it already, come on!”

That threw the man. Daryl had never said that before, ever. He faltered, his grip loosening for a moment – it was all Daryl needed. He tore his mouth sideways and sank his teeth into his father’s flesh, biting down as hard as he could on two fingers. The man bellowed in pain and jerked away. Daryl spun around, spitting blood and skin out onto the carpet. He yanked up his jeans as he stepped after his father who was clutching his bleeding hard and whimpering.

“Never,” Daryl hissed as he advanced, his mind completely overtaken by red fog, “again!” He reached for the nearest heavy object – his mother’s lamp on the table. He tore the cord from the socket as he raised the lamp over his head. Bringing it down on his father’s head the glass shattered and the man screamed, falling to the floor. Daryl didn’t stop; he brought the lamp down again, this time on the man’s exposed side. There was a crack of ribs and satisfaction flooded Daryl. His lips pulled back from his teeth – red with his father’s blood. He kicked the wheezing hand as hard as he could in the balls, wanting to crush him, cause him so much pain he would never walk again.

All those years, all those times he had raped him or let others rape him, each and every one of them was racing through Daryl’s mind. He beat his father repeatedly with the lamp, the heavy metal quickly breaking the skin, blood spattering. With the lamp broken the only source of light came from the streetlamp outside, its yellowish glow peaking in through the window, the only witness to the crime. The scars on Daryl’s body were burning, the lacerations across his back stinging as if they were new, he could hear the noise of the belt cracking across his body, the metal buckle striking his flesh. His vision was a mix of red and black, blurred with tears.

He wasn’t sure for how long he continued to kick and beat his father, all he knew was he didn’t stop until his body physically collapsed. His arms ached from wielding the heavy lamp repeatedly over his head and his knees shook beneath him. Daryl gasped for breath, the lamp slipping from his trembling fingers, landing on the ground with a solid thud. His legs gave way and collapsed to his knees next to the body of his father. The man was barely recognisable, his body and face was so broken and beaten, clothes stained with blood, limbs misshapen. Vomit stung the back of Daryl’s throat and he threw up, his whole body shaking violently. The smell of the blood was filling his nose; he could taste it in his mouth.

What had he done? 

 

***

 

“That’s when I came home,” Merle said gruffly from where he sat perched on the edge of Rick’s sofa, “I found him like that.” 

Rick stared at Daryl who stood in the middle of the living room, face turned away, looking out of the window at the street. His voice had been strong until the end of the story, not wavering until the fog of rage had cleared and he had realised what he had done. Rick was torn between going to Daryl and wrapping him in his arms and ordering him to get the hell out of his house and to stay away from him and his kids.

“W-what happened next?” He forced himself to ask, determined to get the whole story before he reacted.

Merle said evenly, “I tried to cover it up, make it seem like an accident. I got Daryl to change his clothes, wash out the blood from his mouth and off his hands, then we set the house on fire. It went up like a dream – there was so much alcohol in there. It was common knowledge locally about my old man’s drinking problem, I thought no one would ask too many questions and that the police would waste their time on a low-life like him.”

Rick glanced back at Daryl and saw the tense line of his shoulder and his shaking hands.

“But it didn’t work,” he stated to Merle.

Merle scowled and nodded stiffly, “It almost did. The firemen and police came, took our statements – we said we were both off hunting at the time the fire broke out – we watched the house burn from the trees, came over after the police arrived and the firemen had put out the worst of the flames. We problem would have gotten away with it if it hadn’t been for our fucking neighbour. She told the police she had heard shouting and crashing from the house not long before the fire started. The police investigated, the report on father’s bones came back and showed someone had beaten the shit out of him.”

“And you took the fall?”

Merle nodded again, “With my record it wasn’t difficult. I didn’t want Daryl to spend the best years of his life rotting away in some cell. I had a good lawyer. He managed to get me off on a First Degree Arson charge, not murder, I was lucky.”

“Yes,” Rick agreed. He watched Daryl and bit his lip. It all made sense now, Daryl’s reluctance to tell him about his past, his anger and fear when he learned Rick had gone behind his back and looked into him, he had been trying to hide the truth from him, terrified of how he would react. Rick didn’t even know how he should react now he knew, he felt numb, somehow detached from his body as if this was all a dream. He wished it was.

His morals as a cop was telling him he had to take Daryl in to custody, he had committed a crime – the worst crime arguably. But at the same time Rick felt no anger towards Daryl for what he had done, if anything he felt relieved it had happened. The things the man had done to Daryl, he did not deserve to be free and unpunished, yet did he deserve to die for it? Yes, Rick believed that he did, it wasn’t just what he had done to Daryl, but also his mother. He had taken a life, almost completely ruined another, surely that meant in a black and white world that what Daryl had done that night fell into the white? But Rick was a cop, it was his duty to catch people who committed crime, it wasn’t his responsibility to judge whether they were guilt or not.

Rick rose from the sofa and stepped towards Daryl, not entirely sure himself what he was going to do or say. As he looked at Daryl all he saw was a victim, not a criminal and most definitely not a murderer, someone who deserved to go to prison for the rest of their life. It was simple really. It came down to one thing, could Rick overlook what he had just learned as a cop?

Daryl lifted his head and looked at Rick right in the eye as if he could hear his thoughts. Rick stared back at him, his mind going instantly silent as the decision was made for him by his heart...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm away on holiday till the end of next week so will probably be around two weeks till the next update, sorry! But we're getting close to the end of this story now :)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :) So I'm back from my holiday and as promised here's the next chapter! Enjoy...

Daryl's throat was painfully dry, his tongue felt too big and it kept getting stuck to the roof of his mouth. He had held nothing back, told Rick exactly what had happened that night. An odd sense of weightlessness had come over him by the time he was finished, as if his whole body had been filled with helium. He wasn't sure how he was feeling, he was overwhelmed. Part of him was relieved all the lying was over but the other part was terrified the truth was worse than the lies. He couldn't meet Rick’s gaze, he didn't want to see the betrayal there, the hurt and possible anger.

Daryl had never felt guilty about what he had done until now, he did not regret that his father was dead – far from it – yet he suddenly felt uncontrollably guilty. He had murdered someone, granted his father had deserved it, but that didn't seem to matter all now. Suddenly Daryl wanted Rick to arrest him. He needed to feel the cold metal of handcuffs around his wrists. 

Merle and Rick were talking but Daryl didn't hear their words. He stared out of the window out at the peaceful suburban street. A young boy was playing catch with his father on the front lawn opposite and a woman jogged by with two dogs attached to her belt. He didn't belong here; he had known that all along, he had been fooling himself. The things he had done – the petty crimes he had committed as a teenager, the means he had taken to survive on the streets and the life he had taken – he deserved to be punished, to not live happily ever after. Rick deserved someone so much better than him and he wasn't going to drag the man down with him.

Daryl felt suddenly calm and collected, he knew what he had to do. 

Without saying a word he walked out of the living room, Merle and Rick calling after him. He reached the front door before they caught up with him.

“Where are you going?” Merle demanded, grabbing hold of Daryl's arm and pulling him back around.

Daryl didn't answer, simply yanking his arm out of his brother’s grip and reaching for the door handle. The sound of the father and son across the road reached his ears as he pulled open the door – the boy and man laughing and calling to one another playfully. He wouldn't but Carl and Judith at risk anymore either, his past would one day catch up to him and he didn't want them to suffer because of it – and they would if he stayed. 

It was for the best, he told himself, for everyone involved. He only hoped Rick would see that and let him go, move on after he was gone.

“Daryl, please!” Rick was following him down the driveway, his voice filled with panic, “You don't have to leave, please, stay!” 

Once more Daryl didn't respond. He reached the road but Rick stopped him, catching hold of his hand and stopping him in his tracks.

“Daryl,” Rick said breathlessly, moving in front of him and putting a shaking hand to his face, “It’s alright. What you did it – I understand. I'm not angry, it doesn't change how I feel about you, Daryl. Please, don't leave, you don't have to. Please, I...don't leave me.”

And Daryl almost stayed. He looked into Rick’s sky-blue eyes, saw the desperation there, the love. It pierced Daryl's heart and couldn’t help but lean in and kiss Rick one last time. Rick’s hand on his cheek slipped round and grasped the back of his head, holding on tight. Daryl tasted the saltiness of tears and he thought they were Rick’s but when he pulled back he saw the other man’s face was dry – the tears were his own.

“I'm sorry, Rick,” he whispered, memorising his face, thumb stroking his cheekbone, “but I have to go. I - I'm no good for you, or your kids, I realise that now. People like me don't get to live happily ever after with people like you.”

“Yes, yes they do, Daryl,” Rick insisted, taking both of Daryl's hands and holding them in his on his chest. Daryl could feel the pounding of Rick’s heart beneath them. He was very aware of Merle hovering on the porch and it occurred to him then that he wasn't just walking out on Rick but also turning his back on his brother. But he had to do it, Merle would be alright, he was strong, he always had been.

“Please, Daryl, we can still make this work. I don't know what you’re afraid will happen but I'm telling you it doesn't change anything, I still love you.”

“I'm poison, Rick,” Daryl whispered, needing him to understand, “I'm no good. I have to go, for your sake and Carl’s and Judith's. What I've done…I don't deserve happiness…I'm sorry.”

Rick’s eyes frantically searched Daryl's face. Daryl saw how confused he was, he didn't understand, yet he hadn't really expected him to. 

“I have to go,” Daryl repeated. He turned around and called to Merle, “I'll see you around, big brother.” 

Merle stared at him for a second, but unlike Rick he did know what was going on inside of Daryl's head; he knew there was no hope changing his mind. “See ya around, little bro.”

Turning back to Rick, Daryl gently tugged his hands free of Rick’s. 

“I love you,” Daryl told him, he had to say it at least once.

“Then stay…” Rick murmured, his eyes filling with tears.

Daryl smiled - a sad, lonely smile – and that was all it took for Rick to understand.

“That's why you're leaving, to protect me from yourself, because you love me.”

“Yes.”

“That makes no sense,” Rick breathed, a hint of anger suddenly in his voice.

Daryl closed his eyes for a second, saying warily, “Please, Rick, you just have to believe me. I have to do this. I'm sorry.”

“Daryl!”

He began to walk down the road, he heard Rick following him. He turned around. “Don’t follow me, Rick, please.”

“Let him go, mate,” Merle growled, walking quickly down the drive to stand at Rick’s shoulder, “it's his decision.”

Daryl nodded his thanks to his brother but didn't meet Rick’s eyes again, if he did than his resolve would crumble and he would be unable to take another step.

“Don't, Daryl, please don't go!”

Rick shouted after him as he walked briskly away from the house down the road. He gritted his teeth and put his head down, ignoring his cries. His heart breaking a little more with every step.

***

Shane smiled at Maggie as he entered the police station though the smile didn't reach his eyes. He had other things on his mind – Lori, Rick, Daryl. He and Lori had argued yesterday after they got home from Rick’s, he had been determined to know why Lori seemed so intent on ruining what Rick had with Daryl. Part of him, he admitted, was concerned she was jealous but if that was the case did that mean she still had feelings for her ex-husband? Shane knew she still cared for him, they had been together many years before their marriage fell apart, he had been there, he had been Rick’s Best Man at their wedding.

Lori had been enraged that Shane could even think that she was having second thoughts about leaving Rick and choosing him – that had been when the argument had turned into a fight. Shane was relieved they had left the kids at Rick’s – he wouldn’t have wanted them to hear them shouting as they had yesterday. Shane knew Lori was hiding something from him and he had demanded to know what it was.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours of angry tears, Lori had told him all about her fight with Rick and about her suspicions and fears over Daryl. Shane could see where she was coming from yet at the same time he was angry with her for thinking such things. Neither of them knew Daryl or anything about his past or where he had come from but they did know Rick and Shane trusted his best friend’s judgement more than anyone else's in the world. Because of that Shane thought Daryl at least was owed the benefit of the doubt. Not everyone who ended up in a bad situation had done bad things, it wasn't only bad people who made bad choices.

Shane had not slept that night. He had laid awake staring up at the dark ceiling, trying to shut his brain up but his thoughts wouldn't stop spiralling. Sometime around dawn he had dozed off until his alarm clock had rung loudly in his ear at 8am. Lori did not stir as he had got up and got dressed. Shane knew she was awake though, her breathing was too short and her mouth was closed – she always slept with it slightly open, he thought it cute. He didn't talk to her, he was too tired to face another debate already, so instead he kissed her lightly on the forehead then left.

After picking the kids up from Rick’s and dropping them back home, he had driven to the station. He wasn’t dressed in his uniform because he wasn't on duty today but he had to do it – see if he could find anything on Daryl in the police files or database.

The first thing he saw when he entered the station was Maggie behind her desk – as usual – but with Glenn sitting beside her, his arm casually but obviously dropped over the back of her chair. Normally Shane would have scolded the young officer for being unprofessional but he didn't have the energy or the desire to do so today.

“Shane?” Maggie said, surprised as she saw him, “I didn't think you're on duty today?”

“Just need to catch up on some paperwork, Maggie,” he answered casually as he walked by the desk, nodding to Glenn.

Once at his desk, he switched on the computer and took a seat. He felt slightly nervous, guilty, about what he was about to do but he told himself it was for Rick – he was protecting him (if there was indeed anything to incriminate Daryl on their system). The computer was old and took a few minutes to turn on fully during which Shane drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk next to the mouse. Normally he would go and make himself a coffee whilst he waited but right then his stomach felt too uneasy, churning around. Eventually, after five painful minutes, the computer finally was up and running.

Quickly so he didn't lose his nerve, Shane opened the correct programme and typed in Daryl's name. The loading spiral seemed to taunt him for a few seconds then the page popped up and Shane was staring at Daryl –or rather a younger version of him with short hair and a furious scowl. For a second Shane didn't react, just stared at the mugshot on the screen. Lori had been right to suspect him, Shane realised with a jolt of guilt that he hadn't taken her instinct more seriously.

Shane scrolled down the page and saw the multitude of notes, arrests, and minor convictions that Daryl had begun accumulating since he was twelve years old. There was a handful of reported incidence from Child Services attached to Daryl's file but it was the reported death of his father that caught Shane's eye. He clicked and brought up the case file. He quickly read about the fire and the eye-witness reports from neighbours then found the conviction file of one, Merle Dixon. Daryl's old brother had been convicted for First Degree Arson. At first the fire had been ruled an accident, the father’s death not suspicious, the original reported stated that he had been a well-known drunk. However, a neighbour had come forward and told the police that she had heard shouting the sounds of a fight from inside the house not long before the fire broke out. Shane clicked to the next page of the report and the story continued. Merle and Daryl had both claimed in their statements to have been out hunting and had arrived at the scene after the fire had been brought under control by the fire crew. With the new eye-witness statement, the police had brought both brother in for questioning. There was different statement from another neighbour stating they had indeed seen Merle Dixon leave the house late afternoon and head into the woods that their house had backed onto, however there was no mention of Daryl accompanying him. In fact, the lead officer on the case had made a note on the report that upon the brothers arrival at the scene, Daryl Dixon hadn't been wearing suitable footwear to go traipsing through woodland or carried any sort of gun or bow to shoot game. The officer clearly had suspected Daryl for he had underlined this evidence in thick, bold pen.

Yet, as Shane read on, it was Merle who eventually confessed to the crime – stating to the officer that he and his father had argued and the argument had turned violent. Merle stated that he had knocked his father unconscious and had left the house. He denied setting the fire on purpose, however did admit to remembering leaving a cigarette burning, and with his father’s drunken history and the report from the scene stating the fire had been intensified by the excessive presence of alcohol, the police had arrested and charged Merle.

Shane saw that Merle Dixon’s virtual file had been updated automatically very recently, yesterday in fact, stating that he had been released early from prison on grounds of good behaviour. 

Shane sat back heavily in his chair, wishing he had made himself that coffee after. He stared at the screen thinking, it didn't add up, the eye-witness reports, the evidence noted by the lead officer, Merle’s sudden cooperation with the police and confession. Shane couldn’t help but wonder if Merle had been protecting Daryl, taken the fall for his little brother. But if that was the case then…

He leaned forwards again and clicked back to the forensic report of the body. The fire had left only blackened remains behind, however the reported stated that the remains showed multiple signs of trauma – bones not only broken but shattered as if someone had taken a hammer to the body. The physical condition of the remains made it difficult to say for sure, but the doctor who had performed it had been sure the trauma had happened around the time of the fire but could not have been caused by it. Someone had violently and excessively attacked the man – beaten him to death, smashed his body until the bones were misshapen and almost unrecognisable. Whoever had done this was capable of such savagery that it turned Shane’s stomach and if Merle’s confession was a lie then…  
Shane leapt to his feet, knocking his chair backwards. Daryl…Daryl had done that to his own father, mercilessly beaten him to death then set his house on fire to try and cover it up. A man who was capable of that was sleeping in the same bed as his best friend, had been under the same roof as Carl and Judith. Shane was shaking with rage and fear for those he loved. He would protect them, he couldn't let Daryl hurt – kill – them too, for if it was one thing Shane had realised from his years as a cop, a man capable of such uncontrollably violence was always going to be a danger to everyone around him. 

A monster was a monster, no matter how hard it tried to hide its true nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...So, what do you think is gonna happen? Please let me know in a comment  <3 Not much more of this story to go now, the next chapter is already written and I'll be uploading it later this week!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (POSSIBLE) TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDAL THOUGHTS
> 
> Please don't hate me...

Rick paced up and down his living room. Jessie lay on her bed, head resting between her paws, watching him with worried eyes. 

“You're gonna wear a hole in that carpet in a minute,” Merle muttered from where he sat on the sofa, his own face pale with concern.

Halting, Rick shot the older man a blaming look. 

“This is all your fault!” he growled, his fear and confusion turning more and more to frustrated rage as time slipped by.

Merle got to his feet and met Rick’s furious eyes with his own.

“Everything was great before you came crashing back into Daryl's life – into our life!” Rick all but shouted, “And now he's gone and I have no idea where! I don't even know if he's coming back, if I'll ever see him again! Because of you!” Rick knew Merle was a dangerous man to be shouting such things at but he didn't care, he needed to shout, to get it out.

“Daryl will be back,” Merle muttered, his hands balled into fists by his sides as he struggled to resist the urge to punch Rick, “he just needs some space is all. Calm down will ya?”

Rick growled and turned his back on Merle, staring out of the window. It wasn't very late in the day yet but the sky was growing dark with cloud. He wished he could believe Merle’s words but he knew better. The look on Daryl's face as he had left told him he had right to be seriously concerned. He had seen that look before on other peoples faces – the victims of hideous crimes whose lives could never be rebuilt and the criminals who refused to let the rest of their lives be dictated by the routine of prison life. The look of someone who was about to do something that could never be reversed – the ultimate decision, the final choice.

“I have to go after him,” Rick said, more to himself than to Merle.

“He told you not to,” Merle warned.

Rick turned back around, “I am going to find him, if you want to try and stop me than be my guest, but I'm telling you now that you'll fail.”

Merle stared at him for a second, weighing up his options. He asked gruffly, “What are you so worried about? What do you think is going to happen to Daryl?”

Rick couldn't say what he feared aloud but Merle already had guessed, he could see it behind his eyes.

“Daryl wouldn't…” Merle began but trailed off weakly, “my brother isn't a coward.”

“He isn't going to do it because he's afraid,” Rick whispered, his heart hammering against his ribs, “he's going to do it because he thinks it's the right thing to do.”

***

It felt odd standing on the flyover instead of huddle beneath the hulking rise of concrete. The road behind Daryl wasn't busy, a few vehicles rush by but the wind from the speed they were travelling buffeting him. He had ducked under the safety barrier and now was contemplating climbing up onto the edge. Peering over and down he saw the familiar smoulder circles of fire, the four burning trashcans. Even they looked different from this angle. He was released to see no one was huddled around them – he wouldn't want to hurt anyone. 

A lorry clattered by and Daryl staggered sideways, his ears ringing with the noise and his eyes streaming from the blow of air and grit. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. 

He felt oddly calm, detached, almost as if he was floating, dreaming. 

This wasn't the first time he had considered ending his life, there had been multiple times before. The most serious had been in the first month after his mother’s death, the weeks after Merle had left to join the military, the days after he murdered his father and Merle had gone to prison. He had always imagined doing it like this, jumping from somewhere high and loud, he liked the idea of being up high, of being closer to the sky. He never had thought about hanging him or cutting his wrists or blowing his brains out, those means frightened him, they were so violent. No, this was the way he chose to do it, a simple step over the edge then let gravity do the rest. 

Daryl had been hurting for so that the prospect of it finally all ending was a relief like no other. He had felt caged his whole life, trapped in misery, abuse and poverty, never able to catch a break, to make something of himself. As he imagined stepping off the flyover now he pictures the cage door swinging open and his soul flying free and effortless to where there was no pain, shame or false hope, just quiet folds of darkness. 

He deserved it – to die – not because he had taken a life but because of the manner of how he had – the ruthless, barbaric nature of his crime – and the sheer joy which had momentarily consumed him when he realised his father was dead. He had crumbled to his knees that night by the father’s body and cried – cried tears of happiness. Surely that made him just as much of a monster as his father had been? 

All these years he had resisted to think like that, to accept what he truly knew about himself. But after telling Rick, telling him everything and hearing what had happened himself out loud had made it impossible for him to ignore any longer. He had been running from the truth for far too long. 

He wouldn't taint Rick with his crime, the blood on his hands. He wouldn't put him or his kids at risk, wouldn't let them blindly accept a murderer into their lives and hearts. No, it was better for everyone if he just did it.

Daryl blinked and carefully put his hands on the concrete, intending to hitch himself up onto the edge block that ran the length of the flyover. But before he could climb up a voice interrupted him.

“Son, what are you doing?”

Glancing sideways Daryl saw Hershel, the elderly man who usually lived beneath the flyover, the man Daryl had shared the food Rick had bought him with. That night felt like a lifetime ago, though in reality it had barely been less than a month.

“Hershel?”

“I hope you're not thinking of throwing yourself off there, Daryl,” Hershel said in a serious voice, his eyes solemn and pitying.

“What if I am?” Daryl retorted angrily, “It isn't anything to do with you.” 

He hated the tone of the old man’s voice and the pity he saw written clearly across his lined, worn face. Pity had been the main reason he resisting seeking help when he had been a child – along with mistrust of the system and fear over what would happen if his father found out he had gone to the police – but most of all it have been his hatred towards the pity they would show him. It made him feel pathetic and helpless, a victim, weak and he wasn't weak; he certainly wasn't helpless. 

Hershel didn't seem to care he had enraged Daryl, he continued with stubborn certainty, “You're better than that, son, whatever it is can be helped, you don't have to do it.”

“You don't know me! You don't know anything!” Daryl shouted to be heard over the rush of a passing truck.

“What happened to your friend?” Hershel asked, moving closer toward Daryl, “the friend who bought you that food for nothing.”

Daryl's mind flashed back to that night and their conversation. Rick’s face rose up before his eyes and he bit the inside of his cheek hard enough he tasted blood. He looked away from Hershel down at the distant ground below the flyover. He could lie or tell the old man to mind his own business, but he didn't do either.

“His name was Rick. We…he became more than just a friend.” Daryl wanted to tell Hershel, wanted at least someone else to know how Rick had helped him, showed him such kindness he had almost escaped his past, he didn't want it to die with him. He went on, suddenly unable to stem the torrent of words pouring from his mouth. 

“Rick took me in, gave me a home, showed me what it's like to have a future, even a family. The past month has been…impossible. He was so good to me, to patient and caring, so understanding and accepting – even when he found out the truth he still…loved me. He said so different times…I only said it once in goodbye…I wish I had told him more. I wish I had shouted it from the rooftops, I think I loved him from the minute I first saw him…his blue eyes, his kindness, his smile…that was all it took.”

“Sounds perfect,” Hershel spoke more carefully now, “So, what happened?”

Daryl blinked, the mist clearing from his mind and he looked up at the sky, at the endless expanse of blue and white cloud.

“My past caught up with me. I've been trying to bury it for so long, to ignore it, but I can't anymore. I'm putting Rick at risk – and his kids - I'm not safe. I'm not good. What I did…all these years I have gotten away with it, someone else serving my time, I deserve to be here now. I have to be here, to do it.”

There was a brief pause. Daryl watched the clouds overhead travel slowly on the wind across the blue sky, reminding him of old ships at sea, coming free of their moorings at the dock and drifting on the tide.

“I guess it turned out my advise couldn't have been more wrong…” Hershel said his thoughts aloud. Daryl recalled the man’s words, his advise, “Having no one is what gets people in our situation, having someone is the only way you ever gonna get out of it. So you find a way to trust the guy, or you will regret it…”

“No, it was good advise,” Daryl murmured, “I don't wish the past few weeks never happened. Meeting Rick, getting to be with him, even for a little while was more than I could ever have imagined. I will never regret meeting him.”

“It doesn't have to end, Daryl,” Hershel told him, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder, “you said that Rick still loves you, regardless of this truth you feel you have to punish yourself for. That it what matters, the fact that he doesn't think you have to hurt yourself over it. He wouldn't want you to do this. I bet he's searching for you right now, think how anxious and frightened he is, Daryl.”

“Shut up,” Daryl muttered, closing his eyes and balling his hands into fists.

Hershel ploughed on, “How do you think he’ll handle finding out you killed yourself? I bet he’ll blame himself. The grief and guilty will eat away at him till the man you love is just a shell of the person you once knew. You say you love him, but you would do that to him? You think that he’ll be safer without you, but he doesn't think that. It would kill him too, Daryl.”

“Stop it!” Daryl shouted, shoving Hershel hard in the chest, pushing him away. Tears blurred his vision as he gasped for air, the image of Rick lying dead on a mortuary slab burning itself onto the inside of his skull. He had been so focused on why he was planning on doing it that he hadn't even stopped to consider what would happen to Rick, how he'd feel, how he'd react. He had convinced himself that Rick would be better off without him - and he still believed that to be true – but he hadn't thought about Rick’s point of view. Hershel was right, Rick would blame himself, never forgive himself…

“I can't,” Daryl cried, leaning against the concrete for support, “You’re right, what it would do to him…I can't!” 

Daryl sobbed, turning around and crouching down, pressing his back against the rough concrete he had till a few minutes ago about to climb and step off of. Wrapping his arms around himself he buried his face in them and cried, so lost and confused, his emotions so conflicted. What should he do now? He still believed fiercely it was better for Rick if he disappeared from his life but he couldn't do that in a way that would leave Rick grasping for answers, for an explanation of why he had chose to leave. But he needed to take responsibility for what he had done, needed to face justice for his father’s murder. It had been haunting him all this time, padding behind him like a great black dog, he had to face it. But how?

“Are you going to go back?” Hershel asked as he sat down on the road next to Daryl, wincing as his old, stiff bones groaned.

Daryl knew he meant go back to Rick. He shook his head, “I can't, I won't taint him with what I did. I won't but him in danger because of what I am.”

Hershel waited a moment then asked, “Can you bare coming back to the streets?” 

The mere thought made Daryl want to climb up onto the concrete edge after all, “No…I don't think I can.”

“This truth of yours, this terrible thing you have done, I'm assuming it is an actual crime?”

Daryl nodded, lifting his head from his arms and watching a car speed by him in a flash of silver.

“Then if you feel as if you must face justice why not hand yourself over to the police? Go to the station and confess?”

The irony kicked Daryl in the stomach but he knew instantly that was the only real option available to him. Instead of taking justice and punishment for what he had done into his own hands he would let the law decide, surely Rick would understand that?

He looked at Hershel and said, “Yes, I think that is what I must do. Thank you.”

The old man’s lips twitched as if he was about to smile, he muttered in dark humour, “Our first conversation ended with you leaving saying you were going to get arrested. It appears our second has ended the same way.”

Daryl snorted, getting to his feet and helping Hershel up, saying offhandedly, “I wonder if there’s gonna be a third?”

Hershel glanced at him sadly, replying quietly, “I don’t think so, son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...so I originally intended to kill Daryl off here but I couldn't do it...but he's not out of the woods yet - Shane is not a happy man...


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting so close to the end now! Thank you all for continuing to read this story <3

Shane wasn’t sure what he had planned when he found Daryl but he was determined not to let the criminal spend another day roaming free. He was convinced that the Dixon brothers had covered the death of their father up, with Merle taking the fall so Daryl – the real killer – could escape justice. Shane couldn’t believe that the shy, quiet man he had met today was capable of murder, but from what he had read about the crime scene and the eye witness statements he was sure he was. 

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles going white, Shane pressed his foot down on the accelerator and his car lurched out of the police station onto the road. He was driving to Rick’s, what exactly he would do when he got there he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to let his best friend spend another minute in the presence of a murderer. 

Indicating left, he followed the road and tried not to think of the gruesome details he had read. The ferocity and savagery of Daryl’s attack on his father was unlike anything Shane had read before or come across as his years as a cop – there was a lot to be said about the ease and impersonal nature of a murder committed by a simple gunshot. 

He hadn’t been driving long – just a few minutes – when he saw him walking on the pavement adjacent to the road. Shane slammed on the breaks and the car skidded to a halt, the engine growling angrily as its rough treatment. 

Daryl had been lost in his thoughts when the police car up ahead screeched to a halt. He blinked and stopped in his tracks. Heart leaping into his throat, he suddenly feared it was Rick but it was Shane who got out of the car. Daryl let out his breath in relief. He didn’t want it to be Rick who heard his confession first. 

Shane wasn’t wearing his uniform but he had his police belt on, including cuffs and his gun. His face was a stern mask of disbelief and rage, his hands clenched fists. Suddenly gripped with a new stroke of fear, Daryl took a step backwards but Shane lifted his hand, indicting for him to remain where he was. Knowing he couldn’t outrun the larger, fitter man if he tried, Daryl obeyed, his pulse hammering loudly in his ears. He guessed Rick must have called Shane, told him he was missing, asked him to help look for him. But the anger on Shane’s face and the stiffness of his broad shoulders told Daryl it was something else, something more. 

Daryl opened his mouth to speak as Shane approached but the other man interrupted him.   
“Daryl Dixon, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. It you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you...”

Daryl was so shocked and confused that he barely reacted as Shane seized hold of him and spun him around, yanking his arms roughly behind his back and holding his wrists securely. There was a brief pause as Shane pulled off the hand cuffs from his belt then the click of metal reached Daryl’s ears and he sagged, shoulders slouching and head handing. 

“Do you understand these rights as they have been given to you?” Shane’s voice seemed to echo as if from a great distance away. 

“Y-yes,” Daryl whispered, his mind struggling to catch up with what was happening, “Shane, w-why are you arresting me?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Shane growled in Daryl’s ear as he tugged him towards his car by the cuffs around his wrists, “I bet you thought you’d gotten away with it after so many years, your brother taking the fall for you and everything. But you’re wrong, Dixon, someday everything comes back to ya’.”

Daryl’s blood ran cold, he stumbled as his legs went weak and Shane had to grab him beneath the arm to stop him from crumbling to the ground. Shane knew what he had done, how? Rick must have told him. Daryl felt sick. He couldn’t believe Rick had done that, hold Shane the truth. Yes, he had been on his way to the station to confess himself but that wasn’t the point, it was his secret – his crime – to tell, not Rick’s. Betrayal stung Daryl’s eyes with hot tears and he gave no resistance to Shane as he pushed him into the back of the police car. 

Daryl sank back against the seat and stared at his ghostly reflection in the window. If Rick had told Shane everything than didn’t that put him at risk of punishment too? Would charges be brought against him for not arresting Daryl himself the moment he learnt the truth? Tears rolled down Daryl’s cheeks silently, he never wanted Rick to suffer because of what he did. That was why he had left, why he had thought ending his life would spare him further involvement in his crime. But his attempt to save Rick had been for nothing and now Daryl found himself wishing he hadn’t listened to Hershel and had simply stepped off the flyover. 

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the cold glass of the window. 

***

Rick could barely think straight he was panicking so much. His hand shook as he changed gear and turned onto one of the final streets he had yet to check. He had driven all over town in his search for Daryl but had found no trace of him. Merle was searching on foot, he had grunted something about checking Daryl’s old haunts from when he had been a kid. Rick hoped he was having better luck than he was. He could hardly still believe that Daryl would actually do what he feared he intended to do – kill himself. For all Rick knew he may have already succeeded, his Daryl could be dead right now and he would have no idea. 

Tears blurring his vision, hands shaking violently, Rick pulled the car up half onto the curb and turned off the engine. He sat there for a second, breathing hard, trying not to lose it. 

“Where are you, Daryl?” he whispered aloud, dropping his head forwards and hitting his forehead on the steering wheel. Suddenly his phone began to buzz in his pocket and he hastily fumbled to pull it out. 

“Hello?” He gasped, praying it was Daryl. 

“Rick?” Shane’s noise sounded tense and worried on the other end of the line and Rick sagged back in his seat in disappointment. 

“Shane, what’s up?” He tried to sound normal but his voice caught and he swallowed hard. 

“You need to come to the station, Rick, right away.” 

Rick closed his eyes, trying quickly, to think of a convincing excuse, “I don’t think I can, Shane, I –“ 

“- It’s Daryl, Rick.” 

Rick’s heart leapt and his eyes snapped open; he sat up straight in his seat. 

“Daryl? What about him?” He tried to hide the desperation from his words but failed. He couldn’t have Shane finding out the truth about Daryl, about what he did, he wouldn’t understand, he saw the world in black and white. 

“He’s here at the station,” Shane’s voice was strained as if he too was trying to hold something back, “He...you need to come, Rick, you need to hear the truth.” 

“What are you talking about, Shane?” Blood was rushing loudly in Rick’s ears as dread began to seep into his heart. His voice wavered as he asked, “Is Daryl alright?”

There was a pause and Rick gripped the phone so tight so feared it may break in his hand.

“He’s fine,” Shane answered, hostility in his tone as if he wished it wasn’t the case, “Rick, come to the station now. Trust me, buddy.”

A shudder went down Rick’s spine, all his instincts telling him something was very wrong. Did Shane know what Daryl had done? Had he found out himself or had Daryl told him? Had Shane come across Daryl in the middle of taking his own life and stopped him? Or had something else entirely happened?

“I’m on my way,” Rick said, hanging up the phone and restarting the car. 

***

Shane had taken him into an interrogation room, sat him down at a metal table and hand cuffed him to it, all without saying a word. He had left Daryl alone in the room which was empty apart from the table and two chairs on either side – one of which Daryl now occupied. There were no windows, the walls and floor of the room were washed-down grey slabs. A long fluorescent light was fitted to the ceiling, emitting an awful artificial white glare that was unpleasantly bright and drained all the life from your skin. It must have a loose wire or connection for every ten seconds it flickered. Daryl felt sick again. 

Daryl wondered where Shane had gone, what he was doing. He suspected he was gathering the evidence he needed, his personal records, the files on his father’s case and Merle’s imprisonment, or talking to other officers. Ice slipped down Daryl’s spine. What if he was speaking to Rick, what if he had called him and told him he was here? 

For the first time since he had been arrested, Daryl struggled against the hand cuffs, yanking hard on the chain connected to a metal loop infused onto the surface of the metal table. The clang of metal against metal put his teeth on edge and he stopped, knowing there was no way out. He didn’t want Rick to see this part, his interrogation, his confession – especially if it was to be conducted by Shane. Shane was Rick’s best friend, his partner, Daryl did not want to be the one to damage – maybe even destroy – such a close relationship. He knew Rick would need the support and love of his friends and family in the coming months. 

The door to the interrogation room creaked as it was opened and Shane stepped back inside. His face was grim but his jaw was set in a determined, stubborn jut. As Daryl has guessed he carried in his arms a small pile of brown official folders. He still did not speak as he closed the door behind him and took the seat opposite Daryl. Not wanting to be the first to talk, Daryl bit his tongue as Shane laid out the folders, opened one of them and took out a large glossy photo. He placed it on the table in front of Daryl, his eyes calculated and dark. 

Taking a deep breath, Daryl looked down at the photo. The image wasn’t the best quality, its age evident, but it was what it showed that was important. Daryl had never seen what had managed to be salvaged of his father from the burned wreck of his house. It hadn’t been much as he had expected but the evidence was still damning. The remains of his father were blackened by the fire, barely recognisable for a human being. Yet, what did remain showed what Daryl had done – the misshapen, broken bones clearly not a result of the fire. 

“You got away with it back then,” Shane said quietly, though in the confined, echoing room he may have well have shouted, “Even your brother – Merle isn’t it? – wasn’t convicted for murder. It’s that surprising really, given the type of person your father was – his record, his reputation – and the neighbourhood you lived. I bet the police at the time welcomed the news that such a pain in their arses was dead, they didn’t care about the circumstances, they just wanted the case closed as quickly as possible. Murder cases require a lot of paperwork, a lot of trouble – trouble they found yourself father unworthy of. I pity the man really, no one gave a shit about the truth, they just looked the other way, looked for a scapegoat which your brother so perfectly provided with his confession.” 

“You’ve seen his record,” Daryl muttered, staring hard at the photo of the burnt corpse, “that was only the tip of the iceberg. You wouldn’t pity him if you had known him.”

“I don’t care about the things he did, Daryl,” Shane muttered, leafing through the files in front of him, “It doesn’t give you the right to do what you did.”

Tears once more burned Daryl’s eyes and he blinked them back.

“Would you believe me if I told you when you arrested me I was on my way to this very station to hand myself in?”

Shane let the pages slip from his fingers and he laid his hands flat on top of them. He studied Daryl for a second, the light overhead flickered and buzzed. 

“Now, why would you do that? Why hand yourself in after all these years?”

“Does it matter?” Daryl muttered, not meeting Shane’s eyes.

“Yes.” 

There was a pause. Daryl tried to guess whether Shane had found out the truth on his own or if Rick had hold him. 

“He’s on his way,” Shane said as if he had read Daryl’s mind, “It’s up to you whether or not you he sees you like this. You can tell me everything now, before Rick arrives, save yourself and him the pain and embarrassment.”

“H-how did you find out?” Daryl hoped his guess was right.

“Lori was suspicious of you, she was worried about you becoming part of the family,” Shane answered smoothly, “I liked you, Daryl, honestly I did. I wanted to prove to Lori that she had nothing to worry about so I looked into you and...” Shane gestured to the files laid out across the table, “You can imagine my shock at what I found.”

Daryl tried not to look relieved. Rick hadn’t told Shane anything, he was still in the clear. If Daryl confessed now before he arrived then there was a good chance Rick wouldn’t be dragged down with him. 

“Alright,” he said, meeting Shane’s eyes, “I’ll tell you the truth, I’ll confess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 Please tell me your thoughts in the comments.
> 
> I'm sorry to say but the next upload will be the last (it will include the last chapter and an epilogue). TIll then my lovelies! <3


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we go...the finish line is in sight! I hope you like it <3

The car bounced up the curb and Rick swung it around into the car park of the station, taking up two spaces. He tore off his seatbelt and fumbled with the door handle, not bothering to remove the keys from the ignition. He ran across the car park towards the building, almost knocking into the automatic doors as they opened too closely. Maggie and Glenn stood waiting for him, both worried looking and anxious. 

“Rick, thank God! What’s going on?” Maggie gasped, catching hold of his arm and stopping him from rushing straight passed them.

“Shane’s arrested Daryl, he’s got him in the interrogation room right now,” Glenn told him quickly, eyes wide with concern, “He wouldn’t explain anything when they arrived, he –“

“- I’m on it,” Rick interrupted, desperate to get to Daryl, to stop whatever was about to happen, “You two stay here.” 

He headed for the door which led to the holding cells and interrogation room, thankful to hear that neither Maggie nor Glenn tried to follow him. The officer on guard of the holding cells looked up at Rick as he hurried passed but he didn’t stop to explain himself. Reaching the closed door to the interrogation room, Rick seized hold of the doorknob and twisted it. Relief flooded him as it turned – he had feared it would be locked – and he pushed open the door. The bright fluorescent light blinded him for a second and he halted in the doorway, blinking hard as his eyes struggled to adjust. 

In front of them sat Shane and Daryl on either side of the table which was strewn with folders. There was a piece of paper in front of Daryl that Rick instantly recognised as a confession and Shane was holding a pen out to Daryl to sign it. Daryl’s skin was extremely pale, the artificial light giving his skin a sickly sheen, but his eyes were huge as they locked with Rick’s. All three of them were frozen in place, thrown off by Rick bursting into the room. 

“Rick,” Shane said in a warning voice as he began to rise to his feet. 

“Daryl, no!” Rick yelled as he watched, almost in slow motion, Daryl pick up the pen which Shane had dropped and fumbled with it in his cuffed hands. 

Rick darted forwards but Shane was quickly, catching him around the waist and pushing him back. Holding his arm out, Shane shoved Rick hard in the chest as he tried once more to reach Daryl. 

“You can’t intervene, Rick, you don’t understand,” Shane was saying though Rick barely heard him, “Daryl isn’t the person you think he is, you don’t know the truth!”

Rick wanted to scream to the heavens that he did and he didn’t care, that nothing would ever change how he felt for Daryl, but the words died on his lips as, over Shane’s shoulder, he watched Daryl sign the confession.

“No!”

Daryl flinched at Rick’s desperate shout and he looked up from the piece of paper to see Rick slump against Shane. 

“I’m sorry, Rick,” Daryl said, though he knew his apology could do nothing. It was done, he had signed the confession, after so long finally he had done it. He would face the justice he deserved for what he had done, perhaps then he would find some kind of peace. 

Shane leaned over and picked up the confession, worried that if he left the piece of paper within Rick’s reach he would destroy it. Glancing between them, he said awkwardly, “I’ll let you two have a moment.” He pulled the key to Daryl’s cuffs from his pocket and placed it on the table then left.

The door swung shut behind Shane and Daryl stared at the silver key sitting on top of the photo of his father’s remains. He couldn’t stand to look at Rick, afraid he would see anger in his face, betrayal. 

Rick didn’t understand what had happened, how they had ended up here, why everything he fallen apart.

“I thought we were happy,” he whispered, his heart lodged in his throat. 

Daryl flinched at his words, at the anguish in his voice. He changed his mind, he would have preferred if Rick had been angry.

“We were...” he said quietly, tearing his eyes from the key to look at Rick, “I so sorry, Rick.”

“I don’t understand,” Rick breathed, stepping close to Daryl, looking down at him where he sat, “Why did you leave? Why are you here? Why have you confessed?”

Daryl closed his eyes as if in pain and Rick picked up the key and unlocked his wrists. The cuffs clattered to the metal tabletop, the noise reverberating around the sealed room. Taking hold of Daryl, Rick guided him up onto his feet and pulled him into his arms.

“I was so afraid...when you left I thought...I feared you were going to –“ Rick broke off but Daryl knee what he was trying to say, he didn’t want to hurt Rick further by telling him he had been right to think he was going to take his own life.

“I’m sorry, Rick.”

“Stop, stop saying that!”

Daryl pulled out of Rick’s arms and began to talk, suddenly desperate for Rick to understand, “I’ve been living a lie, Rick, for all these years I’ve been living a lie. I’ve been running from what I did, I should have been the one to go to prison not Merle. I deserve to be punished, I want to be punished, Rick, I need to be. What I did...I killed my father, Rick.”

“He deserved it!” Rick exclaimed, his voice rising, “Daryl, everything he did to you...he was a monster. He deserved to die a horrible death, if he was still alive today I would do it, I would kill him for what he did –“

“- The guilt is eating me alive, Rick!” Daryl interrupted, “I’m a murderer. I deserve to be behind bars. I’m a bad person. I don’t deserve to be happy, to have someone like you. Think of your kids, Rick, you don’t want them around someone like me.” 

“Daryl, you are one of the softest, sweetest people I’ve ever met,” Rick tried desperately to persuade him, “What you did that night...that wasn’t the real you. Sometimes good people do something bad for the right reason. I know the real you, Daryl, I’ve fallen in love with the real you and he is someone I want to be part of my kids lives, someone I want to share the rest of mine with.”

“Rick...” Daryl whispered, his head throbbing and tears slipping down his cheeks, “You’re so – you’re too...You deserve someone better, someone without my past.”

“I want you!” Rick cried, cupping Daryl’s face and leaning in to kiss him.

“No,” Daryl shook his head, stepping back away from Rick, “I can’t, Rick, I can’t do this – I won’t let you be dragged down with me. I won’t let you waste your life on me.”

“It’s my life, Daryl!” Rick did sound angry now.

“You don’t understand, Rick, you’re not listening to me. I have to do this, for you and the kids, for me! When Shane found me I was on my way here to hand myself in, I wanted to confess.”

Rick gapped at him. Daryl looked down at the floor, hating that he had led Rick on, he should never have allowed himself to get involved with him.

“But...” Rick whispered, his blue eyes swimming, “I love you.”

Daryl closed his eyes. He heard Rick move closer then felt his hands on his face, tilting his head up. Still not opening his eyes, Daryl exhaled slowly as Rick kissed him frantically. 

“Please don’t,” Rick begged, pressing his forehead against Daryl’s, “please don’t do this, don’t leave me.”

“It’s too late.” 

And Daryl did not just mean because he had signed the confession and told Shane everything, but because it was true, Rick was too late to save him. If only they had met as children, perhaps than things would have worked out differently, because Rick would have given Daryl the strength and courage to go to the police and tell them what his father did to him. He was too late, it was too late.

“I’m sorry, Rick, I never meant to hurt you.”

“I love you,” Rick said the words as if they were magic and could turn back time and right all the wrongs of Daryl’s past. Daryl leaned back and gently cupped Rick’s face, brushing his curls back and stroking his stubbly jaw. 

“Then trust me, Rick, please. I need to do this.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Rick whispered in a pitiful voice, tears slipping down him cheeks.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Daryl leaned in and brushed his lips against Rick’s, tasting the saltiness of his tears, “Shane doesn’t know that you knew about what I did, please keep it that way, Rick. I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”

“Stop,” Rick shook his head, fisting his hand in the front of Daryl’s shirt, “Stop sounding like that...as if you’re saying goodbye...this isn’t goodbye, Daryl!”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next, Rick,” Daryl murmured sadly, “I’m gonna be sent to prison, I don’t know how long for –“

“- It doesn’t matter,” Rick interrupted, pulling Daryl as close as possible, holding on to him tight, “I’ll be there with you through it all, Daryl. I’ll visit and call and write and I’ll be there the day you’re released.”

“I can’t ask you to put your life on hold like that for me, Rick.”

“You’re not asking me, Daryl.”

“But I don’t want you to, Rick, I –“

“- You don’t control my actions, Daryl, no more than I do yours. I won’t let this be the end of us. I’ll wait. I love you.”

Daryl stared into Rick’s blue eyes, remembering the first time they had met, how he had fallen for Rick right there and then the second their eyes had met and the Deputy Sheriff had smiled warmly at him... 

The mere prospect of not losing that – losing him – filled Daryl with hope. Rick leaned in and kissed his forehead. Daryl closed his eyes and accepted that what happened next was completely out of his control. He hugged Rick tight as he heard the door to the interrogation room open once more as Shane returned. This was it, who knew when Daryl would be able to be this close to Rick again... Feeling the same, Rick turned his head and found Daryl’s lips with his own, kissing him fiercely. Daryl kissed him back, entwining his fingers into the back of Rick’s dark hair, memorising the texture of the silky strands. 

“I’ll be there,” Rick breathed, his promise ghosting over Daryl’s lips. 

“I love you,” Daryl murmured, staring into Rick’s blue eyes, stroking the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Rick kissed the pad of his thumb and Daryl felt the ache in his chest ease slightly. 

Shane cleared his throat loudly and Daryl forced himself to step back. Rick let him go, trusting in his decision, knowing in his heart he would see him soon, that one day they would get a second chance of being together. He didn’t know how long it would be till that day but it didn’t matter, for Rick would wait a hundred lifetimes to be with the man he loved, he would come back to life to be with Daryl if such a thing was possible – perhaps in another world it was. Rick couldn’t help but think what a twisted world that would be...yet it would still have been better than the reality he was in now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry all is not lost! Continue on to the Epilogue to find out if Rick keeps his promise to Daryl! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	23. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the very last chapter for this story! Thank you to each and every one of you for reading and leaving kudos and commenting <3 This story is for all of you, you're awesome!

To begin with Rick kept his promise, visiting Daryl in prison weekly as long as he wasn't on duty on the Thursday – visiting day for the prison. The prison Daryl was sent to was a two hour drive away and every time Rick made the journey he relived the short time he and had had with Daryl, but each time the memories grew more and more painful.

Rick wrote the weeks he couldn't make it in person, telling Daryl about Carl and Judith, sometimes including a photo of the three of them. Daryl stuck the photos Rick sent him to the wall next to his bunk, not caring what his cellmate thought about them.

Special occasions and holidays were the worst. There was a strange atmosphere that cloaked the prison, invading even the hardest hearts. If you weren't miserable than you were angry, Daryl couldn't make up his mind which was worse. Rick sent him cards at Christmas, his birthday, valentine’s day, and their anniversary – the day they had first met. Daryl found it hard to keep those cards, a couple he had ripped up, tears blurring his vision. Afterwards he regretted him so he stopped opening them.

Time had no meaning in prison, despite everyone in their being on a clock. The judge had given Daryl fifteen years, his circumstances and confession working in his favour. Rick had told him repeatedly that he should appeal, try and get out sooner. Daryl always said he would but he never did. He wanted to serve his time, to take his punishment, that was why he had turned himself in after all.

Merle visited him every other month. He would sit opposite Daryl, scowling at him across the table, arms folded stubbornly across his chest. Like Rick, Merle didn't understand why he had done what he did. Unlike Rick though he was angry, Daryl knew why, though he never said it aloud. By Daryl turning himself in it made the time he had spent in prison pointless, he had taken the fall for Daryl in the hope he could make something of his life, but now that didn't matter. Daryl had said he was sorry but Merle hadn't accepted his apology, yet he still came to see him, which was more than Daryl ever did for him whilst he has served time.

As the years melted together, Rick gradually visited less frequently. It wasn't something that happened out of the blue, Daryl doubted Rick even noticed himself. Rick began to miss the odd visit day and his letters became shorter and his writing more untidy as if he had been in a hurry when he wrote it. Daryl wasn't surprised, he had expected as much to happen, Rick was moving on.

Rick made excuses, though they weren't really excuses they were totally valid reasons why he only visited the prison once a month. He was promoted at work and Lori was finally letting him spend more quality time with the kids. He had proposed one visit that he could bring them with him, saying they would like to see him, but Daryl had instantly shot that idea down. He didn't want Carl and Judith to see him in prison, he could hardly stand the fact that they knew he was in one.

After five years Rick stopped visiting, stopped writing. Daryl would lay on his bunk staring at the photos on the wall, trying to summon up the courage to rip the photos down and throw them in the trash. He hoped that Rick was happy, that he had found someone else and that was why he no longer visited. He still received a card at Christmas but that was it and after eight years even that stopped. 

Merle still visited him loyally like a dog and one time during Daryl's ninth year of sentence he noticed there was a gold band on his brother’s left hand. He never saw any wedding photos, he wondered if there were any, he didn't ask. Thirteen months later he got a card with a picture inside of a new born baby girl, on the back of the photo written in his brother’s untidy scroll were the words ‘you’re an uncle, congratulations.’ Daryl had stuck the photo of his niece next to all the others – he still couldn't bring himself to take them down.

Then one day Daryl was told he had a phone call waiting and when he had picked up the receiver and heard Rick’s voice on the other end his legs had almost given way beneath him. He had leant heavily against the wall, cradling the phone in his hands as if it was alive, hardly daring to believe it. Rick apologised over and over and Daryl had listened, hardly saying a word. It had been so good to hear Rick’s voice. Till that moment Daryl had never understood how someone’s voice could be described as ‘music to the ears’, but after that phone call he did, though he also thought it an understatement. It was more like oxygen to a drowning man or food to a starving one. It was miraculous and revitalising, the antidote to a poison Daryl had known he had been injected with until he was cured and could breathe again. 

For the eleventh and twelfth years of his fifteen sentence things went back to how they had been in the beginning, Rick visited two or three times a month, wrote weakly, and called when he had something special to tell him. 

One visit he brought with him recent photos of Carl and Judith. He had hold Daryl with pride in his voice how Carl had chosen to become a cop and had shown Daryl photos of Carl – now a strapping young man with his father’s dark hair and handsome face – wearing his crisp new uniform, smiling confidently. Judith was in her teenage years of rebellion. Daryl had laughed as Rick told him how she had taken to dying her hair black and how she had pierced her lip. Apparently Lori was still as much of a hard-arse as ever so Judith spent more days living at Rick’s than she did her mother’s now which Daryl could tell Rick was inwardly happy about.

The last few years during which they had fallen out of touch had clearly been good for Rick, he was more of the man Daryl remembered, not the downtrodden person who had occasionally visited him and had sat awkwardly across from him, skin pale and eyes dim. Daryl leant that Rick had left the police and now taught criminology at his local college. The change had clearly been what he needed to find himself again. The significance was not lost on Daryl that Rick had always found his way back to him too. 

The final year of Daryl’s sentence was the most difficult. Rick was increasingly busy working at the college and Daryl began to fear he wouldn’t be welcome in Rick’s new life. He didn’t voice his anxieties to Rick; he didn’t want him to think he owed him a place to live. Fifteen years was a long time, a lot could change, a lot had changed. They never talked about other people; Daryl never asked whether Rick had met someone else, particularly during the years when he had stopped visiting him. In truth, Daryl was afraid to, so he didn’t. Yet now, as the final few months of his sentence rushed passed, Daryl knew he had to talk to Rick about what would happen when he was released. 

Only he couldn’t. Rick stopped visiting him. He didn’t turn up to the visit day nor did he call or write Daryl beforehand telling him something had come up and he couldn’t make it as he normally did. Daryl tried not to read too much into it, he told himself there was a simple explanation, that everything was fine. 

But Rick didn’t visit the next week either and there was still no phone call or letter explaining his absence. Daryl began to worry, he stopped eating, hardly slept. He laid awake listening to his cellmate’s snores, staring at the wall where the photos were stuck though he couldn’t see them in the dark. 

One month to go and Merle visited him, ensuring him that he always had a place to crash with him. Daryl thanked him but the pain in his chest didn’t ease. 

When the day finally came Daryl didn’t want to leave his cell. The guard stood in the doorway, waiting, but Daryl stayed sitting on his bunk. In the end his cellmate pulled him up and pushed him out of the door, telling him to “Get the hell out of here.” 

The guard walked him through the prison, a hand on his elbow, not saying a word though Daryl wouldn’t have talked if he had asked him something anyway. It wasn’t unusual for inmates to not welcome their release, for some inside the prison offer things they could not have outside in the real world – guaranteed meals, a bed, a roof over their head. After the years Daryl had spent on the streets he understood the feeling, but that wasn’t why he dreaded stepping outside the gate. He was terrified of what he would find, or rather, what he wouldn’t find. Rick wasn’t going to be there, waiting for him like he had promised fifteen years ago, why else had he stopped contacting him suddenly? 

Daryl was handed back the clothes he had been wearing when he had arrived – clothes which Rick had given him. They had been washed so they no longer smelt of Rick but they still had belonged to him. Daryl’s stomach twisted itself into painful knots as he changed into them. He suddenly realised he had left behind all the photos stuck to his wall and he almost began to cry. He had never felt so utterly alone, even when he had been sleeping rough beneath a bridge with nobody but the rats for company had he ever felt so helplessly abandoned. 

When the electric gate buzzed open and rolled sideways on its tiny wheels, Daryl stepped out of the prison and back into the real world. He stood perfectly still, blinking up at the bright blue sky. It was hot, a fly flew around his head but he swatted it away. Legs shaking, threatening to not hold his weight, Daryl slowly walked down the tarmac. Reaching the road, he looked first right and saw nobody, just a traffic light blinking amber. Letting out his breath, he turned his head the other way. 

A car was parked on the curb a few metres away. Daryl narrowed his eyes against the bright sunlight. He couldn’t be sure with the glare but he thought someone was inside the car. He stared at the car for a second, wondering if he should go over to it and ask the driver for a lift. But where would he ask to be taken? Again the hopelessness of his situation crashed down upon him. He wished he had told Merle what day it was he was being released but hadn’t because he had been clinging on to the last few threads of hope that Rick would be waiting for him – he had known for years the scheduled date of his release. He was such an idiot.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Daryl turned his back on the car and began to talk down the street away from it. However he only took a couple of steps before the car beeped its horn, making him jump. He turned back around to see the driver’s door open and a man get out. 

His weak legs gave way and Daryl sank to the concrete. Tears blurred his vision and he shook his head wildly, a sob clawing itself way up his throat.

“Daryl? It’s alright, I’m here, I’m here.”

Rick’s voice washed over Daryl as he sobbed uncontrollably. The next thing he knew was Rick’s hands hooking beneath his arms and pulling him up back onto his feet. Rick held Daryl closed, kissing his hair. Daryl clung to Rick, his face buried in his neck as his whole body trembled. He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t take it all. 

“It’s alright,” Rick soothed, stroking his back, “I’m here. I’m so sorry, I’m here now and I’m never leaving again.” 

Daryl lifted his face and kissed Rick hard, pouring all his emotions into the bruising kiss. 

“I thought – I thought you’d left me,” he gasped, pulling back for a moment.

Rick looked guilty but answered steadily, “I know, I’m so sorry, Daryl. I don’t have an excuse, I was afraid...afraid you wouldn’t want me –“

“- How could I ever not want you?” Daryl interrupted incredulously.

Rick hung his head, “I failed to keep my promise. Those years I didn’t come to see you...I promised you I’d be there for you through it all but I wasn’t.”

“You’re here now,” Daryl whispered, laying a hand on Rick’s face, really looking at him for the first time. His hair was shorter than he used to have it and there was more grey than brown now, there were faint lines on his cheeks and crows-feet around his eyes. Daryl gently touched the corner of his eyes.

“Daryl, I –“

He cut Rick off, kissing him again, more gently this time but no less passionately. Rick’s arms around his waist tightened as he held him tight against his body which was softer than Daryl remembered but still strong and warm. This time when they broke apart Rick rested his forehead against Daryl’s and stared into his eyes. 

“I missed you so much,” he breathed, kissing Daryl softly.

Daryl cupped the nape of his neck and squeezed as he asked slowly, “Rick, will you still have me?”

“Of course,” Rick said without a moment of hesitation, “I love you, Daryl, that hasn’t changed. We can start again now, together, have the life we want.”

They kissed again and Daryl tasted the fulfilment of the promise on Rick’s lips. Breaking apart for air, Daryl felt his heart miss a beat as he saw Rick’s smile again – that hadn’t changed – it still made him fall in love with the man just as it had the first time he had ever seen it. 

“Can we go home?” Daryl asked in little more than a whisper. 

“Yes, let’s go home,” Rick said, his smile broadening and that was all it took for Daryl to finally turn his back on the demons of his past and believe he could have a future free of guilt and pain. Rick stepped back and held out his hand. Daryl took it without hesitation and let Rick guide him to the car and their future together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this story and don't hate me too much for delaying Rick and Daryl's happy-ever-after!
> 
> I know this wouldn't have been the ending most of you would like to have seen but I wanted to do something different and not a clean-cut happy ending straight at the end of chapter 22.
> 
> If you have a thirst for more Rickyl fics than take a look at my other works for them ;) I hope to bring you more work soon from various fandoms! X

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Check out my other Rickyl fics whilst you're here! :P x


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